Arthur and The Hopping Broomstick
by soulofair
Summary: Two days after Arthur and the rest of the court discovered that Merlin was more a lady than a lad, he started seeing very weird things. Fem!Merlin/Arthur. AU. I do not own or claim the rights to BBC's Merlin. I'm just having a bit of fun.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yup. Another fandom. :)

Anyway, I have a few notes before I'll leave you to your own devices.

One, I have only seen through S3. I'm hoping that Netflix Instant gets S4 up soon, and I guess I'll have to find S5 some other way. The quirky issues of being a college student.

Two: First Merlin fic. Hopefull it's not too OOC. I apologize if OOC-ness rears its ugly head.

Three: Classes start in a few days, so updates will come as I can find fit. I'm starting the courses for my major, so I foresee needing to be extra attentive to these courses.

And, Four: Enjoy!

* * *

Two days after Arthur and the rest of the court discovered that Merlin was more a lady than a lad, he started seeing very weird things.

And mind you, he'd seen quite a bit of weird ever since Merlin had shown up in Camelot, for one, Merlin revealing that he—_she_—wasn't quite the manservant that Arthur had expected, but these things were far more bizarre. It wasn't particularly frightening; when Merlin had revealed her magic the year before, Arthur had taken it far better than anyone could have anticipated. Though, in all fairness, he could have been putting on airs, trying to be the king his father never was and accepting of magic, but for simplicity's sake, Merlin wasn't tossed into the dungeons for some untold amount of time.

When it was revealed that Merlin possessed and practiced magic, Arthur had just blinked a few times before he tried to speak but couldn't. Merlin had known that it was best not to be smug about the matter, especially since magic wasn't legal at that point and she was very much at the mercy of Arthur's good graces. Instead, she had held her tongue, secretly relishing in Arthur's speechlessness (the prat was silent for once) and had braced herself for the moment that Arthur had the guards haul her off to the dungeons. It never came, and she felt a little foolish for standing there, her eyes squeezed tightly, flinching at even the slightest movement around her.

"Merlin… what are you doing?" Arthur had asked sternly.

"Aren't the guards taking me to the dungeons?"

"You have to muck the stables."

"And then I'm going to the dungeons?"

"No… why would you go to the dungeons?" Arthur asked her/him, amused by her/his reaction.

Merlin opened her eyes and was suddenly very grateful for having held her tongue only moments earlier, because it was now her turn to be speechless. Maybe Arthur was the king his father never was, more tolerating of magic. Or, maybe Arthur was trying to come up with some cruel execution. Regardless, she was going to muck the stables like she had never mucked the stables before (maybe even refrain from using magic for once) and just hope that Arthur kept on this path, because there were many problems in their world that could be solved with sheer tolerance.

But that had been a year ago. Since that time, Arthur had revoked his father's decree that banned all forms of magical practice within the kingdom, and for the first time in ages, Camelot appeared to be entering a new age of excellence and peace, something that Uther had strived to achieve but never had the strength to look past his own preconceptions and prejudices to make the choices that would lead his kingdom to greatness. And just when it seemed like the kingdom was through the most of the big changes, Arthur received another huge blow to what he knew of his world. Merlin was a girl.

Now, there wasn't a problem with that… per se…. It wasn't a secret that Arthur maintained an odd level of affection towards his manservant, and when it came out that Merlin was a female, the court began to speculate whether or not Arthur would act on these affections. It was certain that Merlin and Arthur's relationship to that point had been solely platonic, but given the developments, maybe that would change.

Upon hearing from Gwen that there were these rumors going around the castle, Arthur groaned and buried his face in his hands. That was the very last thing he wanted to hear this early in the morning. With Merlin no longer serving as his manservant (the man part of manservant was severely lacking), and away from the castle for a few weeks for an errand for Gaius, Gwen was doing all the things that Merlin had done for Arthur when he—she, definitely a she now—had been on his service.

Once Gwen left, Arthur tried to turn his attention to his meal, but was interrupted by a sudden movement in the corner of the room. To his dismay, it was a broom, self-sweeping. Alarmed, he almost shouted out to Gwen to see if she had done something to enchant the thing, but then passed it off as a remnant of Merlin's time as his manservant.

As time went on, the broom seemed to take on a personality of its own. Arthur realized that the broom seemed to enjoy being put to work (which he didn't mind in the slightest; his new manservant seemed to have issues with sweeping), cocky (Arthur didn't really know how a broom could be cocky, but that was the impression he got from the broom), and sometimes rather stupid (the broom tried sweeping the walls).

When Merlin returned, Arthur was tempted to ask if she had done something to the broom. He actually was about to ask her if she knew what was going on with the broom when the broom fell, lifeless, into the corner. Though as soon as Merlin left the room, the broom jumped back to life and resumed its cleaning regimen.

But the broom wasn't the only thing that Arthur noticed was acting strangely (as if inanimate objects could act strangely). No… Arthur's boots and shield joined in on the action. And normally, the boots wouldn't have been an issue; he could just wear another pair, of course. Nope. These were the boots that he wore for his tournaments. And his shield was the one he used for tournaments.

He was certain that Merlin was behind this, but was very reluctant to say anything. He was worried that she might take offense and high tail it back to Ealdor. Plus, if she was the one behind the mysteriously animated inanimate objects, she would probably reverse the spell and everything would be back to normal soon.

Hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin had noticed that Arthur was acting strangely, but thinking that maybe he had gotten some sense about himself, decided not to ask him about it. She rather enjoyed having Arthur when he wasn't being completely insufferable. However, she did miss the practice fields and the strangely invigorating feeling she had when she was serving as a practice dummy for Arthur and his knights.

The feeling that Arthur wasn't quite himself, and she didn't know why, plagued her. She knew that their relationship had changed, given the big reveal that she wasn't a he, but she expected things to have settled down by now. Things hadn't been weird this long after he found out that she had magic, but then again, there is a distinct difference between being magic and not being male. Even though she tried to ignore the obvious glances that Arthur would give her while they were out on the practice field before he banished her from being out there with the knights, she had some evidence to believe that maybe Arthur was somehow attracted to her, but given their history, was scared of his attraction.

But when she saw him talking to his boots, she knew something was definitely off with the crown prince.

"No… I can't tell her that!" Arthur muttered to his boots.

Arthur was doing two things that were uncharacteristic of him: talking to shoes, and cleaning. Merlin would openly admit that she was more wont to do those things on occasion, the talking to Arthur's boots more so than cleaning them, but it wasn't normal for Arthur to be doing her job. "Arthur?" she asked as she stepped into the armory.

His head whipped up from the boots and he stared at her in surprise. "Ah… uh… Hi Merlin. How are you?" he stammered.

"I'm fine…" she answered slowly. "But I think the question is, how are _you_?"

The question gave him pause. What did she mean by that exactly? "Um… I'm fine," he lied.

She knew he was lying, but had enough sense not to mention this to him. Instead, she turned her attention to his boots. "Aren't I supposed to be the one cleaning those?" she reminded him.

Arthur looked at her blankly, still clutching his boots and the rag he was using to polish them to his chest. "I, uh… yeah… but I figured I'd give you a break on all the work, you know… being a girl and all."

Merlin folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight to her left leg. "Being a girl and all?" she echoed, her tone full of amusement.

"You know what I mean," he replied dismissively. "It's just easier for me to clean my boots. Besides, you have to go get ready for the tournament."

"What do you mean… get ready for the tournament?"

Arthur eyed her, scanning her from head to toe. "You're a girl, Merlin. We can't have you running around in breeches and a tunic," he explained.

In hindsight, Merlin wished she had slapped Arthur instead of punching him. But, hindsight is 20/20, and in the moment, it had felt right to slap some sense into the prat.

"Ow!" he howled as he gripped his cheek. "What the hell was that for?"

"You can't have me running around in breeches and a tunic?" she bellowed. "I've worn nothing but breeches and a tunic for all the time we've known each other, and all of a sudden, because you figured out that I have breasts, I have to wear a dress?"

Arthur froze and gaped at her. "I… I'm sorry."

"What?" Merlin asked, genuinely surprised by the man's words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"You didn't realize what?"

"That you would take offense to that."

"How did you not realize that?"

"I don't know… I thought you would be different now that the truth was out."

Her posture and expression softened. She knew that it was time to step off the aggression. "Different in what way?"

"More feminine."

"Arthur, I wasn't putting on any airs as far as my personality goes. The only fallacy I was presenting was my gender, but everything else is true. I've always been more comfortable as this, and while it is nice being able to live with the truth being known, I have no intention of changing my habits now. And if you can't accept me as I am—all that I am—perhaps it is time that I returned to Ealdor."

"And do what?" he asked her, his voice softening.

"I don't know. Marry and start popping out offspring?" she suggested halfheartedly.

In all honesty, she didn't know what she would do. Ealdor was probably the least opportunistic place Merlin could envision herself, and given what she had experienced in Camelot, it was doubtful that she'd ever be satisfied being back in Ealdor. The only thing that bound her to Ealdor was her mother, and even Merlin knew that Hunith wouldn't be around forever.

A small smile crept to Arthur's face. "You, a mother?" he asked, rather tickled by the prospect of Merlin ever producing offspring.

She took offense to this, keeping her arms crossed tightly across her chest so she didn't strike him again. "Yes… what's wrong with that?" she complained.

"Nothing," Arthur answered as he returned his attention to his boots.

"Liar."

He chuckled. "No, seriously, there's nothing to it."

"Why would you make a remark like that then?"

"You don't strike me as the mothering sort."

"Of course not; a few weeks ago, you thought I was a man."

He pointed at her and made an "A-ha!" face, which was meant to mean that Merlin had stumbled upon his reasons for not finding her to be particularly maternal.

She crossed her arms and frowned. "That doesn't mean that I can't do it," she insisted.

"No, it doesn't, but who would you marry and copulate with?"

Merlin's brow furrowed and she tilted her head slightly to the left. "I don't know. It's not like I've had it all planned out. I've had other things to worry about," she sniffed.

Arthur's point about how odd it would be if she were to procreate sat uneasily with her. She didn't like how his words had impacted her; it wasn't normal for her to feel like that, was it? Arthur was Arthur: callous and abrasive, but then courageous and possibly the most loving and noble man she knew. The fact that she could call him a man, instead of a boy, was telling.

Another thing that bothered her was the fact that she had openly admitted to wanting to be married and mother children. She wasn't sure when she had decided that was what she wanted in her life. After years of running after Arthur, maybe motherhood wouldn't be too difficult. But that didn't mean that the thought wasn't alarming. That didn't mean that she wasn't caught off guard by how easily that thought came to her. Had she really been able to suppress those sorts of thoughts simply by posing as a man?

Ugh…

It wasn't worth it. Thinking about that… nonsense… wasn't worth it. Maybe Merlin would have to take up talking to inanimate objects, just so she didn't have to deal with another human or her convoluted life. There was a nice chair in the servants' quarters that she could talk to.


	3. Chapter 3

The tournament was long and the weather was unusually warm. Arthur was nearly dying from the heat in his armor, but as the king, he couldn't very well drop everything and cancel the tournament. No, this was the most important tournament of the year.

Arthur performed as expected, showing his knights and visitors a good show. He took a token from Gwen, which received a warm response. Gwen, as usual, was bashful and entirely gracious. Arthur, as usual, was arrogant and boyish. Merlin, as usual, was supportive, but seemed distracted. Arthur knew that Merlin lived in her head, but this was unusual for her to be this withdrawn.

Shortly after the tournament ended, Merlin headed out from the stands. Arthur, oddly concerned about her, followed her out with the crowds. His shield had been acting fine as he was out in the round, demonstrating his skills, but now that he was done, the shield came alive and seemed to be leading him somewhere. His boots seemed to be helping.

It became more and more apparent that the closer that Arthur got to Merlin, the less and less control he had over his own person. He was only steps away from her when he was pulled forward by an invisible force, undeniably his boots and shield. Arthur was mortified when his shield and boots drove him to bump into Merlin. She spun around, and he took a step back from her. "Yes?" she asked him.

"What?"

"You nudged me."

"No, I didn't."

"Who was it then?"

He shrugged, and gave a stern look at the shield. It made a slight motion, almost as if it were ashamed for itself. Shame, apparently, was not a huge concern for the shield, which pushed Arthur more forcefully into Merlin a second time. This time, he couldn't pass it off as something or someone else. She glared at him. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Sorry. There's a bee."

"A bee?" she echoed.

He nodded solemnly. With narrowed eyes, Merlin slowly turned around, and Arthur quickly took to reprimanding his shield. He could have sworn the dragon on the front of the shield stuck its tongue out at him.

What happened next would cause Merlin to stomp on Arthur's foot and march away quickly. The shield decided that nudging and throwing Arthur into Merlin simply was not enough when it leapt out of Arthur's grip and slammed into Merlin, sending her to the ground. She let out a startled cry and whipped around to look at Arthur. "What was that for?" she squawked.

Everyone around them turned and watched as this situation unfolded. Arthur couldn't very well say that some sort of a demon apparently had inhabited his shield, which had been why the shield had just shoved Merlin to the ground, but because it had looked like Arthur had thrown his shield at her, there really was no way of getting out of this.

Trying to recoup any sort of honor he had, he held his hand out to help her up, snatching the shield up and gripping it tightly, overriding the vibrations and struggling. "I am terribly sorry," he murmured.

And at this point, Merlin decided she had had enough of his apologies and dug her foot into Arthur's, eliciting a response from the enchanted boots, which decided that the shield needed some assistance in making Arthur's life a nightmare. Merlin stormed off of the tournament green, back towards the castle, and the boots swung into full-gear. Arthur, considering whether he should follow her or not, had very little say in the matter when the boots compelled his body to move after her, aiding in the swift movement he needed to have in order to catch up with Merlin. "Wait!" he called after her.

It didn't seem as though she would wait, but once they were away from the view of the tournament spectators, she did. She was all ears and fury as she spun around, glaring and blinking in confusion when her eyes met Arthur's. "You threw your shield at me," she growled.

"I was swatting at the bee, and I thought I had a better grip than I did. Are you injured?" he asked, setting the shield down, far away from either of them, before he approached her to inspect for injuries.

Merlin shook her head. "I thought you might have been getting back at me for not wearing a dress," she admitted sheepishly. "If that had been the case, your chivalry skills are severely lacking."

Arthur chuckled as he visually examined her forearms. There wasn't much he could do without touching her, and given the circumstances, Arthur wasn't sure he could trust himself (his boots and shield, really) to behave and not harm Merlin further. He didn't want to hurt her. It was never his intention to hurt her. Even when he had believed that she was a he and they had been out on the practice fields, there had never been any malicious intent behind his actions. Of course, there had been those exceptional cases when Merlin had been harmed, but in those cases, Arthur had never felt anything but guilt.

Merlin was not weak. She, during her days as a manservant, had proven that she was nothing but courageous and determined, certain of herself and her skills. Now, after revealing both her magic and true gender to Arthur, she was proving that she was even more courageous and certain of her place in the world. Those were not things that a weak person could ever fathom, let alone put into practice.

"Please don't go back to Ealdor."

Neither of them had expected those words to come out of Arthur's mouth, but once they had, Merlin's face softened. "What?"

He cleared his throat, trying to give the impression that he was masculine, and therefore, had complete and utter control over his emotions, no matter how bogus that notion was. "I command that you do not return to Ealdor. I forbid it."

"And we both know how well I follow directions," she quipped.

His face fell slightly. "I'm serious."

She chewed on this statement for a moment before she uncrossed her arms and stood back on her heels, giving herself some distance from Arthur. "Under one condition."

"Yes?"

"I can wear whatever I damn well like. I will have none of this nonsense regarding being a maiden and having to wear dresses."

Arthur's laugh could be heard from the tournament field.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin's days at Camelot seemed to be slower and duller than they had been. She despised boredom, and she was starting to hate this stupid kingdom. Arthur wouldn't let her do anything fun, and she really did not want to spend her day down in the laundry rooms or in the kitchens. She wanted to be with Arthur and his men. Hell, she'd even take a few beatings as a training dummy if it meant that she didn't have to sit with Gwen and quietly mend clothing.

She was two ripped shirts away from stealing a horse and racing out of Camelot. It was very unclear to everyone else as to why she was so restless; even Arthur was befuddled by her behavior.

Given that, someone should have expected her to run off with a horse.

When Arthur went after her, dreading the worst but expecting that she had just gone off because she was bored, he found her about four hours outside of Camelot. She was in the middle of an open field, amusing herself by casting spells that caused flowers of a particular hue (when Arthur arrived, they were all red) to sprout up. By the time Arthur broke her concentration, the field had become an intricate piece of landscaped art, the colors coming together in patches to create what Arthur found to be quite possibly the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, a lilting chuckle evident in his question.

Merlin spun around and froze when she saw it was Arthur. "How did you find me?" she asked him.

"A field that has magically sprouted a rainbow of flowers? How could I miss you?"

She snorted and stood up. "I presume you'll want the horse to be returned to its natural color too?"

Arthur seemed surprised that he had missed the green horse standing in the shade of an apple tree. "Green?"

"Camouflaging spell."

"Ah. Well… maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea, but yes, you should return him to his natural color."

Merlin muttered a spell, and the green horse returned to its tawny color. Satisfied, Arthur sat down next to Merlin and admired her handiwork. "I didn't know you knew about this place," he finally remarked, breaking the silence between them.

She pushed her hair back over her shoulder (now that she didn't have to worry about her true gender being discovered, she had let it grow out) and looked over at Arthur. "I didn't until a little while ago. I just stumbled upon it and thought it needed a feminine touch," she explained.

"It's nice. I like it."

"Thank you."

"So, why are you out here?"

An involuntary laugh escaped Merlin's lips, startling both Merlin and Arthur. "Why do you laugh?" he asked her.

The answer to those questions weren't imminently clear. Nothing was really clear anymore. But if she were to say that, Merlin risked losing what she clung so dearly to. "Arthur, I don't think I fit in Camelot very well anymore."

"Of course you do."

"Arthur, I don't think I do. I have been stripped of most, if not all, of the major tasks that kept my world going 'round. Now, of course, I can't return to those tasks now that it's known that I am a woman, but I can't keep mending your shirts Arthur. My hands hurt and it's extremely dull. I need the thrill, the rush, in order to keep going. And I can't find that here in Camelot any longer."

He paused and examined her features. His stares were becoming increasingly intense and Merlin found herself uncomfortable. "So, what would you like to do?"

"I think I would like to return to Ealdor. Before, I was only joking about it, but now, I really do think it's best that I return home now. Mum could really use some help and right now, I should figure out what I am going to do with my life."

Merlin couldn't look Arthur in the eye because she knew that she'd see the pain she had just put there. It pained her too, but she knew this was the best course to take. She needed to stretch her mind and her limbs and her life before she would know her next step. "I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin murmured before she stood up and straightened out her breeches and tunic.

"What if you were to go with my knights and I?"

She shook her head, her curls flopping about wildly. "I don't think it will be the same. I just need to find another adventure for now."

"Another adventure? Like what? Marriage and motherhood?"

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. But, like I said before, I'm not going around looking for that. I'm not ready for that yet."

"But you are ready to leave Camelot?"

"I think now, that is the best thing for me to do now."

"Right."

"Arthur, please don't be mad. You have to see where I am coming from."

"I get it; you're bored and you feel helpless and worthless. I get it."

"I don't feel helpless or worthless; I feel that I just don't fit anymore."

"Is there a difference?"

"I think so."

"Well, you are free to do whatever you wish. You are no longer under my command. You are free to return to Ealdor at the earliest you see fit."

He stood up and walked back to his horse. She could see how deeply she had wounded him, and it hurt her too. She just wanted to feel alive again; she didn't wish to kill anyone's spirit, but she had.

But, given Arthur's blessing, she was now free to return home and sort her life out. The ban on magic had been lifted and she would be able to practice, as she wanted, so there were quite a few options she had at her disposal now. Her time with Arthur had never been for not, and that was the most important thing about these circumstances. Their time hadn't been wasted. And maybe, she could return.

She left Camelot three days later.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was beginning to feel the pressures of his reign as his advisors began to ask about any potential wives Arthur might take. Gone were the days that Uther would handle these matters; any and all things pertaining to Arthur's marriage were solely up to Arthur now. It wasn't as if this bothered Arthur, but the pressure that his advisors were putting on him was not appreciated. Arthur knew that when he found the right woman, he would marry her, and he was certain that he hadn't found her yet.

Except he knew that he had.

He imagined that his father would haunt him for all eternity if he even considered that thought in a more serious manner.

The judgment of neighboring kingdoms in response to the rumors that had undoubtedly spread far beyond the realm of Camelot during the last few years of Uther's life and the first few years of Arthur's reign were an immense burden on Arthur. The burden that Arthur bore the brunt of, regarding his personal life and his relationship to several key players within the court, had never been more present in the past than it was now, and Arthur was not keen on having to deal with these matters. He wished to maintain the status quo and deal with the problems later.

Of course, that wouldn't be possible, and he could only maintain this game for a little longer. He would need to find a wife and he would need to ensure that he had an heir. He dreaded to think of what might come of the future of Camelot if he didn't.

And, if the burden to find a wife and procure an heir or two wasn't enough for Arthur, he still had the matter of the abnormally animated inanimate objects to deal with. While his quarters had never been cleaner, a la the broom, and the quill (a new addition to the group) was rather insightful, Arthur was having trouble wrangling his boots and his shield, both of which had decided that they were going to rebel against Arthur at the most inopportune moments.

On the plus side, Arthur seldom wore his troublesome boots. On the downside, the occasions when he required the use of these boots was when he was in tournaments, when he found the rebellious boots a hindrance. As for the shield, Arthur had completely abandoned the shield during all tournaments in favor of a different shield that he prayed did not acquire the problematic qualities his other shield had.

The boots had a habit of following Arthur around when he was in his quarters. Arthur figured they had imprinted on him after years of serving him well, but was still not impressed by their performance whenever anyone else was around. So, he locked them up in a wardrobe most of the time, and hoped that he would forget about their existence. Once he figured out that the boots could open doors, he made sure the doors were securely locked and boarded shut. The boots or the enchantment hadn't figured out how to undo that yet.

But the quill….

Now, the quill was rather useful. Tutors had trained Arthur during his childhood, shortly ending his tenure as a student shortly before Merlin arrived; whenever he wasn't training, he was with the tutors or playing. His tutors had always been picky about his penmanship, insisting that the future king should have proper longhand if he were to maintain his place on the throne. Arthur's handwriting hadn't always lived up to those standards, but with the help of the quill, Arthur was surprised to find that his handwriting was consistently much better.

Unlike the boots or the shield, the traces of the quill were much less prominent. In fact, the quill actually served some purpose. Arthur eventually found himself dictating letters or decrees to the quill, and the quill would dutifully follow along, jotting down what Arthur said. What was even more surprising was that sometimes the quill would reword what Arthur had said, making it sound better or flow better. And, the quill had a way of understanding what Arthur meant, even if he hadn't quite said it.

Arthur liked the quill. It was humble (a very welcome change, in contrast to the broom, shield, and boots) and inconspicuous. Arthur enjoyed the intelligence the quill possessed and utilized, to the point that he felt more inclined to write, or at the very least, compose some sort of written document. After nearly getting caught in the act of dictating decrees to the quill, Arthur took to writing out his documents once again. He worked in tandem with the quill and even took up journaling. It was truly bizarre.

He found that the journaling actually helped him clear his mind and focus solely on trying to determine what his course of action should be when the time came for him to choose a wife. Officially, there were five candidates: four were noblewomen, whether princesses or ladies or duchesses, from neighboring kingdoms, and the last was Gwen.

Privately, there was only one candidate.

For yet another time in his life, Arthur genuinely had no idea what to do. Like Atlas with the world on his shoulders, Arthur had the destiny of his kingdom weighing on him, and this marriage would make or break his reign.

When he consulted his trusty quill, the quill jumped to attention and scrawled one name, and Arthur knew what he needed to do.

And it scared him.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin had always been rather good about being alert and upbeat first thing in the morning, but being back in Ealdor, back with her mother, without the slightest clue as to what she was to do with the rest of her life, morning was not welcome.

When the horses rode up, however, that thought was quickly replaced with one of concern. Hunith had rushed over to Merlin, urgency and fear written on her face, and had explained that several horses had entered the village walls. Hunith's fear made Merlin assume that they had entered the village with malicious intent, so she scurried out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible, pulling the on dress that Hunith had lent her.

Upon nearly falling out the front door of the hut, Merlin was stunned to see that the horses were from the Pendragon fleet, led by none other than Arthur. "What are you doing here?" she hissed as she approached Arthur's horse.

He smirked at her. "You're in a dress."

Merlin scowled. "I'm afraid Ealdor isn't nearly as obliging as Camelot. But you didn't answer my question."

Arthur dismounted his horse and walked it over to a post, where he tied the reigns so the horse wouldn't wander off. After the horse was secured, he approached Merlin. "May we speak in private?" he asked her quietly.

Her eyes narrowed; Arthur being in Ealdor was suspicious enough, but with wanting to have a private audience with her was an entirely different story. "I suppose," she replied after a moment of hesitation.

Arthur gave a curt nod and led her away from the hut and his men. "Ealdor serving you well?" he asked casually.

"Ealdor is Ealdor. Nothing new to report," Merlin explained.

They were nearly near the edge of town, overlooking a large field, when Arthur stopped. "Here is fine."

Merlin spun around to find Arthur on one knee. "Are you hurt?" she asked him, confused as to why he would be in that position.

Arthur laughed and shook his head. "You really are an idiot, you know that?" he mused gently. "I'm not hurt. I'm proposing marriage."

Realization hit her like the impact of having the seven finest knights using her as a practice dummy. "I'm the idiot?" she exclaimed. "I'm not the one proposing. Why are you proposing?"

His face fell and he slowly stood up. "Why am I proposing?"

Merlin nodded her head rapidly. Her eyes were huge and she couldn't remember a time when she had thought Arthur was more unintelligent. She was simply a serving girl; there were certainly more qualified women for this job, right? "Arthur, it's hardly appropriate!"

She was made uncomfortable by Arthur's stare; she felt like his eyes were boring into her head, trying to persuade her to bend to his will. Why was he proposing? Why had he come all this way to make an ass out of himself when he could have just stayed in Camelot and done the same thing?

"No, I suppose it isn't, but when I think of who I'd like have as the person who will help me reign over Camelot, I can't think of anyone else better for the job."

"Certainly, you could."

"Why would I?"

"Why?"

"Yes. Why would I want anyone else? You've saved my life more than all of my knights combined and you are a force to reckon with. What more could I ask for in my queen?"

"Noble blood?" Merlin suggested stiffly.

"You've got more of a name than anyone else I know. Does the name Emrys strike a chord?"

Merlin stepped away from Arthur, physically repelled by his knowledge of her name. After drawing in a breath, she swallowed and stepped forward again. "How do you know my name?" she asked him quietly.

"Gaius has been particularly helpful in the process of reinstating magic in Camelot. Your name has come up a considerable amount, and when Gaius informed me of the true identity of Emrys, I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

"I don't believe that."

"What part?"

"I believe that Gaius explained things to you, but I sincerely doubt that you could have had any idea of what I am and what I can do."

"You protect me, Merlin. That much I know; and if you are protecting me because you are Emrys and all the legends say that we bring Albion together, what better way to do that than to get married?"

"Arthur, you are asking far too much of me."

"I don't think I am."

"You are asking me, your former servant, to marry you. What will that look like to Camelot? What will that look like to foreign kingdoms?"

"It will look like I am utilizing the best that my kingdom has to offer in order to bring peace to the land, because that is what I am doing. I am utilizing the best that my life has to offer to make sure that future generations can live in a united land."

"You are utilizing me."

"Not in the sense that you think. Marriage is sacred, and I have every intention of keeping it so. You will not be seen as a servant or a commoner when the crown is laid upon your head and you are named queen."

Merlin sat down in the grass behind her and stared up at Arthur. "And what makes you think I want to be your queen?" she finally asked him; her voice was thick with contempt that she hadn't known was there.

"Honestly? Nothing."

"So you are basically risking your dignity by traveling out here to ask for my hand in marriage without having the slightest idea as to what I might say?"

"Yes."

"You are an idiot."

"Yes, but so you are you. We are a perfect match."

"No, we aren't."

"Merlin, I want to marry you, whether it is tomorrow or in twenty years, that doesn't change. I want to marry you, only you. And if the only thing you are concerned about is what the world will think, let them think what they want. I, as the king, can make my own choices about whom I will and will not have in my life, and I want you there, every step of the way, as you have been since we first met."

She flew to her feet and threw her hands up in the air. "Why are you doing this?" she screeched. "Why?"

"Why are _you_ doing this?" Arthur asked her. "You'd think that I'd just asked you to kill your mother or something."

Her hands dropped and her entire body changed. Why was she doing that? Why did this question scare her as much as it did?

"Arthur, I can't be your wife."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I don't think you get it. I _really_ can't be your wife," Merlin assured him with a nervous laugh.

"Why?"

"I'd be horrible at it!"

"You wouldn't have to shine my armor. And you are wretchedly horrible at polishing my armor. I have complete faith that you'll be a much better queen than a manservant."

"You speak as though I've said yes."

"I have faith that you will say yes."

Her eyes narrowed at him once again, but she didn't feel nearly as inclined to lunge at him and rip out his throat. His face was stolid for a moment before he broke out into a huge grin. "Oh, come on, Merlin. Please?"

"Arthur, it would not be wise."

"How?"

"You do realize that part of being married to the king requires that the queen has to produce at least one heir, right? I find it hard to believe that you think that producing offspring with me would be the best idea."

"They'd be lovely children. They'd have to start their training early in order to combat the copious amounts of clumsiness they'd inherit from you…"

She let out an indignant cry. "Two things wrong with that statement: one: they? How many would you expect? And two: I'm rather graceful, thank you very much!"

Just as Arthur was about to reply, she sat down and nearly rolled down the hill, instantly negating her assertion and his need to call her out on her false assertion. Arthur bounded after her, helping her balance herself before he sat down next to her. "I won't need to mention anything about your grace, but I would like as many children as you are willing to give."

"They could have magic."

"Camelot is doing just fine with you, aren't we?"

"A commoner family laced with magic is considerably different than a royal family laced with magic."

"You forget how I came to be."

"While related, I have to say that they are very two different things."

Arthur drew in a deep breath. "Merlin, I don't know if I can rule Camelot without the knowledge that you still stand beside me. And with you here, I really have no idea where you stand."

"You still have my allegiance."

"Thank you. But, that wasn't really my point."

"You meant, physical proximity?

He nodded. "I guess what I am trying to say, but not able to express without looking like a fool, is that I wish for you to return to Camelot and never leave."

"You wish to barricade me into the city?" Merlin asked lightly.

"No, I wish for you to stay with me."

"Oh."

"Gaius speaks of a destiny."

"Oh no…" Merlin muttered. "Not this."

Arthur looked surprised, but continued. "Everything I've found about you speaks of the destiny. Merlin, what if this is the destiny; this is how it is supposed to unfold?"

"It's quite possible, but we just can't know that."

"Yes we can."

"What? By trial and error?"

He shrugged. "You don't know what you can't do until you try."

Merlin closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She would need to have a word with the dragon.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Wow! I woke up to a bunch of reviews this morning. (Literally, this morning, as I turned off my phone's alarm and lay in bed, trying to figure out why I was up at such an ungodly hour) Thank you all for your kind words!

* * *

Arthur wasn't quite sure what had happened to make Merlin change her mind, but after sleeping on the question, Merlin nudged him awake with her foot the following morning. When he opened one eye, he saw that her hair had been pulled up onto the top of her head and she had a bag slung across her body. "Get up!" she whispered as he groaned.

He mumbled something in his sleep, so she nudged him again. "Arthur, get up!"

"No."

"Oh, for goodness' sake!"

He opened his eye again. "Why?"

"We need to get back to Camelot; if we leave now, we can get there before nightfall."

She wanted to go back to Camelot. Okay, that was fine.

Oh.

She wanted to go back to Camelot. That wasn't just fine, that was brilliant!

She had made her decision.

"When do you want to leave?" he asked her, a smile appearing on his face.

"As soon as you are ready to go. Your men are at the ready."

He was ready to go in nearly five minutes. With adrenaline rushing through him, so much that he almost thought that he could hear it pounding against his inner ears, he hurried out of the hut, calling out appreciative thanks to Hunith for her hospitality for the men from Camelot, to where Merlin and his men were. He paused, collected his thoughts and turned back into the hut. He found Hunith and took her hands. "I would like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Hunith smiled knowingly. "She mentioned that you might ask that. You have my blessing. Keep her safe, Arthur."

Arthur grinned and hugged his future mother-in-law. "Thank you Hunith," he murmured seconds before he ran out of the hut and to his horse.

"So, it's a yes, then?" Merlin asked him.

"From her, yes. But then there is you… is it a yes?"

Her face was expressionless until she broke into a grin. "This is probably the stupidest thing we'll ever do."

"Of course. But we'll have fun doing it, I think."

They returned to Camelot later that day, met with a fairly quiet court. Apparently, Arthur hadn't announced his plans to make Merlin his wife, but shortly after their arrival, word spread quickly. Arthur was mostly responsible for the news, unable to contain his excitement. Merlin, on the other hand, was severely apprehensive about telling people, fearful that she might feel the wrath of the scorn of her former colleagues. She wasn't ready to be bumped up a caste or two, especially not in this kingdom where everyone knew her as the plucky manservant of Prince, now King, Arthur.

Within days of returning, plans for the royal wedding began. Arthur, taking wholeheartedly to his future role as husband, burst into Merlin's new chambers (down the hall from Arthur's, for convenience's sake) three days after they returned to Camelot after Merlin had been away in Ealdor for two months. "How do you feel about getting married in a week?" he asked her as he shook her awake by sitting down roughly on the bed.

She groaned and batted at him, pulling a pillow over her head. Her efforts to block Arthur out were futile and he plucked the pillow out of her grip without any effort. "A week, think of it!"

Merlin blinked up at him and glared at him. "A week?"

"A week. In a week, you will be my wife!" Arthur chirped.

Her eyes widened, though it was still quite obvious that she was tired. "Um… wow. That seems soon."

"Yes, it is. So, you should get up and get down to the seamstresses so they could get started with the dress."

"Can I just get married in breeches?"

He shot her a pointed look and she groaned before stuffing her head under the covers once again. "I doubt that the kingdom would see the humor in you being married in anything other than a dress. You need to look the part, Merlin. You already have what it takes, on the inside, of course, but on the outside, you don't come across as such."

"You're trying to groom me?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case, you are going to have to work harder."

Arthur laughed and patted her leg. "You'll be fine. But, they do need to do some fittings for the dress."

"Let me guess; you've designed it."

"No, actually, the head seamstress did. When she heard that we were to be wed, she nearly started crying tears of joy."

"Why would Elena cry tears of joy over that?" Merlin asked cautiously.

"Apparently Elena takes great joy in making dresses for former manservants," Arthur joked.

His hand was still planted on her leg, and despite there were layers of fabric hindering direct skin contact, he could still feel the muscular tone of her legs, the areas where the flesh was firm but still somewhat pliable, and the bone under the skin. Ever since discovering that Merlin was a woman, Arthur had come to appreciate Merlin's body—not in a sexual manner, per se—more. The tasks that Arthur had put Merlin through were trying on a man's body, but a woman, well, that was quite nearly unheard of.

Their children would be strong. Their sons, fate willing, would probably have Merlin's wiry height, but would have Arthur's build. They would be strong, physically, mentally, and if they possessed magic, magically. Camelot would rest easily in the hands of their heir. As for any daughters their union might produce, they would still have Merlin's sinewy build, but could easily inherit his mother's coloring—blonde haired, blue eyed. If they possessed magic, or even if they didn't, his daughters would know how to fend for themselves and would be resilient. They could be damsels, but they would certainly not know distress.

"Arthur?"

Merlin's soft voice brought Arthur out of his reverie. "Sorry?"

"Your hand… you're hurting my leg. I have a bruise there, and your grip seems to be especially strong today," she explained.

"Oh! I'm sorry," he exclaimed as he drew his hand away quickly. "I didn't realize…"

"I wouldn't expect you to. It's not an area that goes uncovered most of the time," Merlin replied gently.

"So, will you see the seamstresses?"

Merlin nodded and rolled over onto her side so she was facing him. "But only if you come to keep me company."

"Ah… no."

She squawked in displeasure. "That's not fair! You get to run around doing things of some relative interest while I have to stand around doing nothing!"

"It's only a few hours. And then you're free to do as you wish."

She contemplated this thought. "Fine. When do they want me there?"

"As soon as you can be there."

"Fine," she muttered before she rolled onto her back. "But you owe me."

"Sure I do," Arthur assured her as he patted her leg and rose from the bed. "Oh, before I forget: do you have a ring that I could borrow?"

"A ring?" Merlin echoed.

"Yes. I need to have your ring made."

"What ring?"

"Your wedding ring?" Arthur said slowly.

"I have a wedding ring?"

"Merlin, do you not know anything about wedding customs?"

"Apparently not."

"Well, we will need to get that sorted. Come by my chambers after you have dressed and eaten. I need to have the size as soon as possible."

"Will do."

"I will see you later."

"Okay," she answered softly.

Arthur left the room, still smiling. Things were coming together splendidly.


	8. Chapter 8

Elena, the head seamstress, wasn't too bad to deal with. In fact, she had been the one who had shown Merlin how to mend Arthur's tunics. Merlin admired the woman, but found that she had very little in common with her.

But, the woman was kind, and Merlin needed to learn how to make small-talk with virtually anyone if she was going to be any use as a queen, so eventually, the conversation picked up, and Merlin learned all about Elena's life. Elena was actually very interesting. Very familiar to Merlin, but interesting nonetheless.

The dress, however, was quite something. Merlin had never seen anything quite like it. Of course, Morgana's gowns had always been showy and intricate, but never had Merlin been in the presence, let alone in, a gown this nice. It was constructed of heavy fabrics that Merlin had never heard of. They were soft and shiny, red and gold, and entirely too nice for what Merlin thought she deserved. Apparently, Elena really wanted to make sure that people knew who the king had chosen for his wife, and she hoped that the color association would help in that.

After a few hours of standing for the fittings, Elena sent Merlin away, requesting that she return the following day for another fitting. Merlin agreed to return, dreading standing for that long again, but excited to see what the dress, closer to being finished, would look like on her. It was almost as if she was excited about the wedding or something.

Another few fittings later, the dress was finished, and Merlin was astounded by how she looked in it. Vanity had never been an issue with Merlin, but as she stared at herself in the looking glass, it was very clear that she was capable of looking the part of queen. Maybe Arthur had been right; maybe she was cut out for this job.

The night before the wedding, Merlin sat in her room, idly tidying up with the use of magic, when she heard a knock at the door. "Come in!" she called.

Gwen opened the door and smiled wanly at Merlin. "Good evening, my lady."

"Gwen!" Merlin exclaimed as she rose to her feet. "How have you been?"

Gwen seemed startled by Merlin's outburst, but didn't confirm Merlin's suspicions by saying anything. Instead, she set a handsome wooden box down on Merlin's table and gestured for Merlin to open it. Merlin could tell, based on the dragon carved into the lid, that this was something Arthur had sent to her rooms.

"What is it?"

"Arthur didn't say, but gave explicit instructions that you, and only you, are to open it. Personally, I'm a bit curious. Do you mind if I say while you do so?"

Merlin, who had been examining the box, turned to Gwen and smiled. "Of course! So, Arthur sent it?"

Gwen nodded and sat down on the bench. Merlin slowly undid the latch on the box and lifted the lid gingerly. An audible gasp escaped her as she pushed the lid back as far as it would go. "Oh my goodness," she murmured.

Merlin turned the box around so Gwen could see the contents of the box. Gwen also let out a gasp before she glanced up at Merlin, who looked absolutely petrified. "This is what Arthur was telling me about; the jewelry his mother wore on her wedding day. Why would he send this? This is far too lavish," Merlin whispered.

Gwen gave a supportive smile. "Merlin, he adores you. And it is a great honor that he wishes for you to wear the jewelry his mother wore. I think it says a great deal about what he sees in you."

"Does he see me as a woman like his mother?"

"I can't say, but I would wear this jewelry with great pride. He obviously wishes for you to do so."

Merlin nodded and slowly closed the lid. She redid the latch and pushed the box carefully to the center of the table. "Gwen, what if I can't do this?"

Gwen squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, reminding Merlin that it had been Gwen that everyone had expected to marry Arthur. Why Arthur had sent Gwen to Merlin's chambers with the wedding set was beyond Merlin, but it was clear that Gwen probably was not the best person for Merlin to voice her doubts about the marriage. There was no need for Gwen to be made uncomfortable because Merlin was self-conscious.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked," Merlin blurted. "I've gotten so caught up in all the rush of the wedding that I haven't heard about how you are doing. How are you doing?"

Merlin was doing splendidly with her conversational skills that evening. Gwen, looking even more alienated than before, hesitated before answering. "I'm doing well, my lady."

It wasn't going to be an easy process talking with Gwen, apparently. Merlin decided that it was time to abandon that notion and give Gwen some reprieve. "Thank you Gwen. For everything. And I hope that you enjoy yourself tomorrow. I want everyone to enjoy themselves; it seems wrong otherwise."

This pulled a smile from Gwen, who nodded slightly before she dropped her head and headed toward the door. "Do you require my services for anything else, Merlin?"

Merlin felt sick. Gwen shouldn't have to wait on her. Gwen was nobler than anyone Merlin knew, and here she was, asking if she could serve Merlin. "No, I don't think so. Thank you, Gwen. Enjoy your evening."

Gwen ducked out of the room, leaving Merlin to her own devices.

Of course, Merlin had never taken too nicely to being left to her own devices. There was always some way she could cause trouble, but right then, all she wanted to do was to run after Gwen and apologize profusely for helping to embarrass her in front of all of Camelot, for taking her place. Gwen should be in her place; the dress would look better on her anyway. The jewelry, Igraine's jewelry, would better suit Gwen anyway.

Merlin cared for Arthur; it seemed as though the whole of her existence surrounded Arthur in some sort of protective shell. There had to be some amount of concern in order for Merlin to be valuable in Arthur's life. And it had been proven time and time again that Merlin would give her life to spare Arthur's. But, did that equate to love?

Did she love him?

She groaned and slammed her forehead into the side of the table. This, of course, warranted a loud and very unladylike swear. Fortunately, she didn't think anyone heard her. They would have only hampered her thinking. She needed to figure out if she loved Arthur or not, preferably _before_ she married him, but even if she figured it out after saying her vows, that would be good too.

Rubbing her head, Merlin reached over for the box and pulled it closer to her. Slowly, she reopened the box, not feeling nearly as guilty as she had when Gwen was in the room, and stared at the lavish metalwork of the necklace, bracelet, and coronet. There was confusing metal netting that Merlin couldn't make heads or tails of, but suspected that someone in the castle could figure it out. It was clear that Merlin was to wear all of the pieces tomorrow.

Gingerly, she pulled the necklace from the velvet padding and held the surprisingly heavy accessory in her hands. Normally, she didn't feel anything warm or comforting in metal pieces, but for whatever reason, this piece felt… like home. Like it was meant for her to wear. So, of course, she dropped it back into the box (carefully, of course) and backed away after closing the lid and latching it shut.

Merlin clamored into bed, still fully dressed, and pulled the covers over herself. She stared out the window, noting that it had started to rain. Rain the night before the wedding day. That couldn't be a good sign.

The rain must have helped clear her mind, because the next thing she was aware of was the fact that it was light outside. It was still raining, but the day had begun and she had slept through the night. And it was her wedding day.

The most logical thing Merlin could think of doing? Stripping down and changing into a shift to go run out in the rain. She doubted that anyone would be awake at that point, and if they were awake, they were working to prepare for the wedding.

If this didn't quell her nerves, she wasn't quite sure what would. But, this made sense, and she needed some sense in her life if she was ever going to get through her wedding day with her sanity intact.


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur went down to the kitchens to fetch Merlin's breakfast. He wished to surprise her on their wedding day by bringing her breakfast himself. In theory, it should have worked without an issue, but as soon as he realized that he didn't know the exact location of the kitchens, things were clearly not going to go his way.

Merlin wasn't in her room, but when he heard excited shouts and laughter from outside, he easily found her. He went running downstairs and out into the courtyard, where Merlin was hopping around, barefoot and only in her nightgown.

"What are you doing?" Arthur yelled out to Merlin.

She turned around and grinned at him. "It's raining, Arthur."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," he called back.

It didn't look like she was going to come back into the castle at any point. "Merlin, you will catch a cold. Can we get married without you falling ill?"

"I'm fine, Arthur."

"You're in a shift, standing in the rain. You might think you're fine, but there are plenty of reasons not to think that."

She rolled her eyes and began to hop around. There was no way that she wasn't completely drenched. There was no way she was going to be at the wedding on time if she didn't come inside right that instant. Arthur heaved a heavy sigh and marched out to meet her. "Merlin, come on. You need to come inside."

"Why?" she demanded with a giggle.

"Are you drunk?"

"Nope!" she chirped. "I just like this rain."

"Rain isn't something to like."

"Why not?"

"Rain? On a wedding day?"

"It's all indoors. Why are you so grumpy today?"

"Because… you're outside dancing in the rain when you should be getting ready!"

He glanced down and realized how horribly indecent his fiancée was. The white cloth, usually very concealing, was hardly that. The fabric clung to Merlin and displayed almost everything she kept hidden. Dread filled Arthur. "Merlin, this is hardly decent."

"Live, Arthur. Live!" Merlin exclaimed.

Then, unexpectedly, she reached up and pulled Arthur's face towards hers, pulling him in for a wet kiss. Her fingers ran up the back of his neck, combing through the hair towards the base of his skull. Involuntarily, Arthur's hands settled in the same place on Merlin, his stockier fingers dragging through the heavily damp strands of her hair. The rain made it difficult for him to keep his hand steady, but the rain also made this seem far more intense than it was.

This, their first kiss, was probably the most absurd thing Arthur had done with a woman, and he had almost eloped with Sophia when he had none of his wits about him.

He was sad when she broke away from him, but was instantly rewarded by the flush high on her cheeks and the grin on her face. "I was not expecting that," Arthur informed her quietly.

"You know, neither was I," Merlin laughed.

"Can we do that again?" he asked sheepishly.

She laughed again. "Why don't we wait for later?" she suggested.

"Good idea," Arthur replied as he wrapped his arm around her and glanced down to determine just how indecent she was. "Here, take my jacket."

"What? Why?"

"Your shift is see- through right now."

Her eyes widened and she let out a squeak. "Why didn't you say sooner?" she exclaimed.

"I thought you knew."

"I didn't! Here, give me your jacket!"

It was his turn to laugh as he hurried to get out of his jacket to get Merlin covered. "I guess you were never meant to be ladylike," he joked.

"No, apparently not."

They ran into the castle and Arthur led Merlin to her chambers, where he had left her meal. After Merlin had been changed into a dry shift, she sat down at the table and watched Arthur expectantly. "Are you going to join me?" she asked him quietly.

"I have to go get ready."

"I suppose you do," she agreed. "I will see you later."

Arthur walked around the table and kissed her on the forehead. "Yes, you will. Get dry and don't catch a cold, will you?"

"Of course."

A few hours later, Arthur found himself in the throne room, standing at the front of the hall, staring down the entry doors. Merlin wasn't late (yet), but that didn't mean he wasn't anxious. The past week had been busier beyond belief, and now that it was almost time to exchange their vows and crown the new queen, he was jittery. He knew he must have looked like a fool or something, but the moment that the doors clicked and began to open, Arthur nearly started crying from the relief from the anticipation that had plagued him all morning.

He hardly recognized Merlin in her finery; her hair had been pulled back, piled on the top of her head and secured with delicate metal netting. She wore the jewelry set that his mother had worn on her wedding day, the regal Pendragon setting, and the dress that she had stood for hours, waiting for the alterations to be complete. Merlin looked wholesomely uncomfortable, but appeared to be holding up well. She didn't trip, she didn't falter; she kept her head high and maintained eye contact with Arthur for the entirety of her journey down to the head of the hall.

Arthur nearly missed the smile that flashed across Merlin's face as she came to stand in front of him. Merlin had been in front of all of these people before, but not like this. Never like this. Now, instead of being at ease with her new status, she was scared, wretchedly petrified, and looked about ready to pass out. This was very unnatural for Merlin.

But, she looked every bit queen, and Arthur knew that he would never forget this day.

As their hands were joined, the priest bound their hands in a blue ribbon. Her hands felt clammy within Arthur's hands; despite that, they fit seamlessly. Arthur usually shied away from blanket statements regarding relationships and clichés about love, but in this case, he was willing to say that it was almost as if it was always supposed to be this way, that Merlin was brought into his world simply for _him_. That she was always supposed to be _his_.

They took their vows and sealed them with a kiss—one very different than the one they had shared earlier in the day—much to the delight to the guests, before Merlin and Arthur were led to the thrones.

Knowing that Merlin had seen a crowning ceremony at least once, Arthur hadn't been too concerned about her not knowing what to do. However, Merlin insisted that they do a rehearsal, just to make sure that she didn't make a fool out of herself. Arthur had obliged and they had gone through the steps of the coronation the night before, so everyone was certain that Merlin would know what to do.

She was seated on the throne and Arthur took the crown from the pillow it rested upon. After giving her vows of allegiance to the Crown of Camelot, he rested the crown down upon her head, trying to avoid the intricate up-do that her hair had been twisted into earlier that day. It was evident that her hair had been pulled back with the crown in mind, because the crown fitted nicely on her head.

Once she stood, the first time as the Queen of Camelot, she nearly lost her balance, but Arthur swooped in to make sure that she didn't make a fool out of herself. After regaining her balance, she stepped down the stairs, arm in arm with Arthur, towards the exit of the hall. Arthur smiled down at her and she gave a slight laugh. "This is mental," she murmured.

"No it's not," he answered.

"Yes, it is."

"Well… I suppose it is then."

They passed through the throngs of applauding and cheering guests, attempting to look regal, but not quite meeting the mark once Merlin broke out into a huge smile and began waving at those who waved at her. Arthur didn't mind; anything that kept her calm and away from a meltdown was the best course of action.

Later that evening, after Merlin had changed out of the heavy gown and into something much more comfortable, they sat in the large banquet hall, enjoying the livery that had been brought in for the purpose of wedding party entertainment. Merlin was fairly quiet throughout most of the meal (a very welcome change, Arthur noted), but was responsive and gracious to those who came up to them and extended their warm wishes of a long and prosperous marriage.

Finally, well before the end of the evening, Arthur and Merlin retired up to his chambers. Merlin, who had magically come alive upon leaving the banquet hall, grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him along abandoned corridors, giggling like a child. "Why are you laughing so much?" Arthur inquired as he ran after her.

"I haven't the slightest idea!" she called back.

"Are you drunk?"

"I didn't drink a drop of wine this evening!"

"So, this is you, giddy?"

"It would seem as such," Merlin laughed.

She spun around and stopped in the shadows. "So, what do we do now?"

Arthur smirked and took the opportunity to swoop in and snatch her up so that she was in his arms, bridal-style. "Well… I foresee a considerable amount of activity in our imminent future. I hope you're well-rested and have ample amounts of energy," he murmured suggestively.

Merlin let out a shocked and embarrassed laugh, but nodded along. "Well, I think we should probably get to that then. We have quite a lot of work to get through."

"I agree," Arthur confirmed before he had Merlin open his bedroom door and they stepped through.

After that door closed, no one would see the King and his new queen for at least fourteen hours.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Ah, so I've finished S4, and I'm ready for S5! Thank you to musicnlyrics!

Anyway, with that said, onward to the chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

Merlin was surprised to find Arthur asleep on her the next morning. She wasn't, however, surprised to find that his hand was still firmly planted on one breast and his head on the other. Chuckling to herself, she ran a hand through his blond hair, letting the strands fall through her fingers. It had taken quite a bit of willpower not to run her fingers through his hair, especially when they first met, but eventually, that desire died off. The realization hit her: she could do this as much as she wanted now. With a smile, she ran her fingers through his hair again.

Arthur kept sleeping, every bit of him flush with Merlin. It was almost as if he was making up for lost time, making sure that she was every bit his and no one else's. She didn't mind, save for the fact that he was getting to be very heavy and she would need to get up at some point. Plus, she knew that the room would be chilly and she would miss his body heat. He was an excellent blanket, but not very useful as far as getting work done was concerned.

Finally, she resigned to her fate and admitted defeat in trying to get out of bed. Besides, the servants probably would steer clear from their room until later on in the day, hoping to avoid disturbing the newlyweds.

Newlyweds… now, that was a novel thought.

Merlin's left hand was free from Arthur's domain, so she was able to examine her hand. Expensive jewelry, or any jewelry for that matter, had never been something that Merlin had much experience with. Now, she was the sole proprietor of a gorgeous gold and ruby ring—the Pendragon colors—that marked her status as Arthur's wife and queen.

Her stomach dropped. She was not only a wife, but also _a queen_. Panic set in, and she started to question herself. Had she made the right choice? Could she honestly do this? Could she be his wife and help him with his kingdom? This was the destiny that Kilgharrah had foretold, urging Merlin to take action to see it through, but now that she was well on her way to doing this, she wasn't sure if she was cut out to fulfill her destiny.

Arthur stirred, his legs and arms squeezing Merlin as he certified that she was, in fact, still there. Her mind stilled as she was brought back to reality. Yes, she could do this. It was how it had always been: Merlin and Arthur. Their partnership was stronger than ever now that they were married, and the longer they were married, the stronger they would be. He had chosen her for this, whether or not he was aware of the destiny. He saw her better than anyone, so if he had faith in her, there was no reason to fret.

Of course, there were many reasons to fret, but the reasons she had were trivial in the grand scheme of things. Merlin couldn't keep second-guessing herself, or she would never achieve anything. She would only hinder her success, and in turn, Arthur's success, failing her friend, husband, and king. She couldn't risk this.

Marriage would take some acquisition, and she would learn how to be a wife and a queen. She already knew how to support Arthur. She was Merlin… Pendragon.

A smile ghosted across her face. After years of being simply Merlin of Ealdor, without any particular surname to claim as her own, she finally had a proper surname. She was now Merlin Pendragon. Merlin Pendragon of Camelot. Queen Merlin of Camelot. Queen Merlin. You would think that she was getting used to the power and status or something.

Arthur stirred in his sleep again, this time rolling off of Merlin enough for her to slip out of bed and get something to eat before he was awake. With bated breath, she waited for Arthur to roll completely off of her so she could leave the bed. Finally, he rolled completely off of her, falling into a rather uncomfortable-looking position on his back, his arms flopped up onto the pillow, looking as if he were pleading for mercy. Merlin's presumption that the room would be cold once he was off of her was correct, but she didn't let that get to her. Instead, she crawled out of bed and pulled the covers over Arthur before she stepped away to pull on her shift and dress herself in a simple dress.

Even though she had told Arthur that she would wear whatever she liked, today, she felt that a dress was more appropriate than men's clothing. She still had a lot of people to win over and she had to prove that she was worthy of the title that Arthur had bequeathed to her through marriage. It would take a while before she would fit the role, at least as far as appearances were concerned, but wearing a dress was probably the best first step.

Dressing took a little longer than expected, but soon, Merlin was out of the room and on her way down to the kitchens. She stepped into the room with a smile on her face, greeted with bows and murmurs of "Your Majesty," or "Ma'am". She knew that it was expected that the staff address her in such a manner, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable. Not even seven months prior, she was among them. Now, she was among one of the highest authorities of the land.

This meant that there was even more pressure for Merlin to keep up with appearances. She needed to stay humble—homage to her roots—and remain very much among the people instead of the nobility. The nobility was now more important in her world, but that didn't mean that it was her entire world. She determined, as she walked through the kitchen, that she would always respect these people. She had always respected them, but now, it was crucial that she never was as abrasive to the staff as Arthur was wont to be.

This would be how she would win over the kingdom. She was just as much a subject to the kingdom as anyone else, no matter her station within the ranks. Not even a day ago, she had been a commoner. How hypocritical of her would it be to suddenly take advantage of her new post and become tyrannical and horrid to be around? How would it look to Arthur if she became some monstrosity simply because she was queen? She would never succumb to such atrocities, but wondered if it was expected of her to become that sort of person now that she was queen.

A thought crossed her mind as she approached the head cook. "Would you be upset if I were to take Arthur's breakfast to him instead of you sending up someone?" she asked.

He looked taken aback. "Take his breakfast yourself?" he inquired.

She nodded. "If it's a problem and the man who usually does it would be offended, of course, I won't. But, if there isn't an issue, I'd like to do this myself. He's not the most pleasant person to be around when he first wakes up," she explained, smiling broadly at the memories she had of waking Arthur up.

The cook thought for a moment before he caught sight of Arthur's new manservant, Otto. "Otto!" the cook shouted.

Otto hurried over to the cook and stood, awaiting his command. "Her Majesty requests that she be able to take His Majesty's breakfast to his room in the mornings. Are you opposed to this?"

Otto glanced over at Merlin and blushed. Merlin had always suspected that Otto, who couldn't have been older than fourteen, fancied her. They had only spoken a matter of maybe forty words to each other during his tenure at the castle, but he seemed decent enough for Arthur's sometimes-absurd demands. "I, uh… no, Ma'am. I am not opposed to this proposal. Would you like for me to have His Majesty's breakfast ready for you to take up to him when you come down in the mornings?"

Merlin nodded and smiled graciously. "I would greatly appreciate that, Otto. Thank you."

He blushed again before he hurried off to prepare Arthur's plate, leaving Merlin and the cook. "Is there anything I can snag before I head up?" she asked him slyly.

The cook, accustomed to Merlin's odd eating habits, nodded and gestured to a plate across the way. "I've set aside some of your favorites," he assured her. "I was going to have Otto take it up to you later, but I suppose you can take it up with His Majesty's plate. I'll have Otto add it to the tray."

"Thank you," Merlin responded before she ventured away from the cook, not wanting to obstruct his work any further.

A few minutes later, Otto approached Merlin with the tray of food. "Send my regards to the king," Otto instructed as he bowed.

"Thank you Otto," Merlin answered.

She left the kitchens, balancing the tray of food without any trouble. It was actually funny how easily she slipped into her old habits. Perhaps knowing the ways of the servants would benefit Merlin in her lessons for being the queen of Camelot.

On her way up to the room, she passed Gwen, who smiled shyly. "Gwen!" Merlin exclaimed as she saw her friend. "How are you?"

Gwen was startled by Merlin's outburst, but quickly recovered. "I'm doing fine, Your Majesty," she answered.

Merlin's face fell. "Gwen… you don't have to call me that."

"Yes, I do, Your Majesty."

"What if I ordered you not to call me that?" Merlin suggested.

"I would defy that order."

"You would?"

This surprised Merlin. Gwen wouldn't defy anything, but when she thought more of it, of course Gwen would defy that sort of order. Gwen was very much committed to the rules, especially rules regarding status. Merlin also wondered if Gwen was feeling alienated considering it was her that people had expected would become Arthur's wife.

In all honesty, Merlin had been among those who had anticipated that Gwen would become Arthur's wife. She felt that Gwen would have made a fine queen; she had the grace and eloquence that Merlin did not have. Gwen had a way of presenting herself to the world that made everyone notice her and respect her, regardless of what her status was within the kingdom. Merlin admired that about Gwen, and part of her felt guilty that she wore Arthur's ring instead of Gwen.

But, Merlin couldn't second-guess herself. Arthur had chosen _her_ for this job, and neither of them could afford to have Merlin second-guessing herself. Merlin needed to be strong.

"Gwen, I would really prefer it if you were to still call me Merlin. Just in private, of course, when it's just the two of us. I need to ease into this, and…"

"I can't do that," Gwen interrupted.

Merlin sighed and gave a disheartened nod. "Of course. I'm sorry I asked," she answered softly before she let herself into Arthur's chambers, still balancing the tray as she did so.

Upon closing the door behind her, Merlin found Arthur's eyes staring at her. "I thought you understood your duties as queen…" he said as soon as he saw the tray in her hands.

She rolled her eyes and set the food down on the table. "Which part?"

"Well, there are a few parts to that, but the one I'm talking about is that you don't have to get my food anymore."

"It's not just your food. I was hungry."

He slid out of bed and searched for his breeches. "How long have you been up?"

Merlin sat down on the bench across from Arthur's usual spot and helped herself to the food she had brought up. "Not too long," she answered before taking a bite of an apple. "You?"

"A few minutes. I didn't realize you had left."

"You didn't? You were asleep on me when I woke up."

Arthur grinned and tucked his tunic into his breeches. "So, how does it feel?" he asked her as he sidled up to the bench and sat down.

"How does what feel?"

"You know… being my wife… being deflowered…"

Her eyebrows flew up upon hearing that, which delighted Arthur. "Do you need to be that crass?" Merlin muttered.

"Crass? You think that's crass?"

She rolled her eyes and chewed her bite of apple thoughtfully. "Our relationship has changed considerably in the last few hours. You've now seen me completely naked, whereas before, you were the only one who had been nude. And considering you appeared to make ample use of my breasts last night, I suggest you respect that, because just as easily as the breasts were there, the breasts can be gone," she warned jokingly.

Arthur gave a melodramatic gasp and clutched at his heart. "Oh no! Not the breasts!" he cried out before grinning at her.

Merlin decided not to acknowledge that she knew that he was staring at the breasts in question, and instead, continued eating her apple. "But, to answer your question, I guess I don't feel all that different."

"I guess that's good," Arthur answered.

"Yes… but I'm a bit concerned."

"Concerned in what sense?"

"The usual concern."

He sighed and glanced up so they were making eye contact. "Merlin… you have to stop with that."

"I know, I know!"

"Why can't you?"

"It's hard!" she whined.

"Not even a full day after we're married, and you're doubting it. Great…" Arthur muttered.

"I'm not doubting _us_; I'm doubting _me_!"

"Merlin, we discussed this."

"I'm aware; I remember the conversation. But look at it from my perspective: I'm a commoner, the last person anyone would expect to be in this position, and here I am, in this position. I'm your wife, not even eight months after being dismissed as your manservant. They all look at me differently. All of them! Gwen won't even call me by my name!" she exclaimed, standing up from the table.

She grumbled as her skirts got caught in the legs of the bench and table. Arthur watched her quietly, taking bites of food as she moved away from the table. "Merlin, stop," he finally commanded quietly.

Merlin whipped around and stared at him, her eyes staring to water. She needed to be strong. She really needed to be strong. "Please sit down," he pleaded.

"Arthur, what if I can't do this?"

"Can't be queen?" he asked, trying to clarify her question.

She nodded mutely. Arthur thought for a moment before he set down his utensils and stood up. He approached her and braced his hands on her shoulders. "I won't let you fail. I promise."

"How can you make that promise?" she asked in such a quiet voice, had Arthur not been any farther away, he wouldn't have heard.

"I'm your husband."

"Yes…"

"And it's my job to support you. You don't have to be the only one supporting this marriage. You aren't the only one supporting this marriage."

"But seriously, what happens if we can't make this work?"

"What is the worst thing that could happen? Come on… think about it."

The first worst-case scenario popped into her head almost instantaneously. "You could have me executed."

"After all the times you've saved me? Unlikely."

She hemmed and hawed until she finally came to another scenario. "What if I can't have children?"

"I don't think that will be an issue," Arthur joked until he saw the expression on her face. "Oh."

"I mean, it's a very real possibility that we won't be able to produce an heir. What happens then?"

The thing with Merlin, as Arthur had learned, was that she had a very distinct way of putting things. This was no different. She had a very valid point. What if they couldn't produce an heir?

"Can we worry about that later?" he finally asked, not sure what else would possibly suffice in this situation.

"Sure," she answered softly before padding back over to the table and sitting down.

She really needed to not screw this up.


	11. Chapter 11

As far as Arthur was concerned, marriage was wonderful. He had access to Merlin at virtually any time of day, his advisors had finally stopped badgering him about wedding, but most of all, the sex was remarkable. He wasn't sure how she managed to keep her, for a lack of a better term, sexual prowess under wraps. She was addictive, and it took virtually everything he had not to take her in the armory.

(Though, they did do that eventually, but that was long after the wedding guests and tournament celebrating their marriage had come and gone.)

Despite all that was good in their young marriage, Arthur did find himself worrying about the same things Merlin worried about. He knew that he had made a rather risky choice by asking Merlin to be his wife. The decision went against the opinion of every advisor, who all were in agreement that Arthur should marry a noble woman, or at the very least, Gwen. But Arthur stood by his decision; Merlin had been his partner from the start, and he could rely on her to stand by him for the rest of his life (or her life, whichever ended first).

He knew the qualms she had about being his queen, but he generally disregarded them because she was worrying far too much about things. And, he could have continued disregarding them until one day, the broom decided that it was time to be especially mischievous.

The broom, which hadn't been too horrid to deal with until now, had made an absolute wreck of Arthur's chambers while he had been out training with his knights. Upon his return, the broom was resting across his freshly made bed, admiring its handiwork. As soon as Arthur entered the room, the broom flew up into the air and disappeared. Enraged, Arthur began shouting, which peaked the attention of Merlin, who came rushing into the room. "What in the name of sanity…" she murmured upon seeing the room.

In this opportune moment, the broom reappeared, shoved Merlin into the room, and barricaded the door. It became clear that Arthur's temper had no evident limit, because he began hollering and throwing things around the room. Merlin was visibly upset by this, but made no effort to calm Arthur. She would let him work things out. "Who did this?" she finally asked.

Arthur stopped and stared at her. He knew exactly what had caused this, but he wasn't about to tell her that an enchanted broom had done it. Arthur had already tried consulting a sorcerer about it, and the sorcerer couldn't make heads or tails of the matter. Involving Merlin would probably only exacerbate the situation further.

"I don't know. But they will be punished severely."

"Should we get Otto to help?"

"Sure."

When Merlin discovered that the door was sealed off, Arthur nearly lost his mind. "Great!" he bellowed.

He slammed himself against the bed, noting the dirt marks all over the covers. Fortunately, the covers could be washed, so he didn't make a fuss about those. Merlin joined him, sitting down gingerly on the bed and fingering the dirt marks. She muttered a spell, and the dirt marks disappeared. "There, easy as that," she assured Arthur. "This won't take too long to clean up. As far as the door is concerned, I'm afraid there isn't much I can do about that. It is really sealed off, and I can't tell if magic is involved or not."

Arthur turned his head to look at her. "You are wonderful, you know that, right?"

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Of course I know that," she replied.

His hand curled around her wrist gently. "Good."

He pulled her down next to him and stared up at the ceiling. "How long do you reckon it will take to clean up?"

"Five, ten minutes?"

"What are we waiting for?" he asked rhetorically.

After getting up, Arthur helped Merlin to her feet and they began working to clean up the mess the broom had left. Merlin's magic helped considerably to speed up the process, and within twenty minutes, the room had been cleaned.

They lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as they held hands. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen this room cleaner," Arthur remarked.

Merlin elbowed him in the ribs, which caused Arthur to first gasp in pain but then start laughing. "I meant it in a good way. None of my manservants, whether male or female, have ever been nearly as thorough as we have been. It just goes to show how good of a team we are."

"You're just trying to cover your ass, aren't you?" Merlin joked.

"Possibly."

She rolled her eyes and sighed contentedly. "Well, no matter, I'm quite comfortable here."

"Are you?"

Arthur knew that the broom hadn't locked them in there for no reason. And it was becoming more and more evident as to what that reason may have been. "You know…" he hummed in a suggestive tone.

Merlin rolled over onto her side and propped her head up on her arm. "In the middle of the day? Is that proper?"

"We're locked in here."

"Still?"

"I checked."

"Oh. Well, that's a bit of an issue. I'm expected down at Gaius' quarters shortly."

"As much as it pains me to say this, I suppose we could make it fast…" Arthur suggested.

Merlin's brow furrowed. "Ouch… that is a little painful."

Laughing, Arthur rolled over so that he was facing Merlin and he placed a kiss on her forehead. "Shall we?"

"I suppose we shall," she confirmed as she kicked off her boots and untucked her shift from the skirt (they had agreed that she could still wear a tunic, but instead of her usual breeches, a skirt would be best).

Otto found them curled up, asleep, a few hours later. Otto felt that something had changed in Camelot, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had changed.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Can I just say how much I loved saroura92's comment of _"hhhhh the broom is such a pervert"_? As far as email notifications that I check first thing in the morning, that has to be one of the best ones I've ever gotten. Had I not known the context of that statement, I would have been really puzzled. Thank you for making me laugh this morning!

* * *

Something, indeed, had changed.

There was some sort of lightness roaming around the castle; a sense of contentment and hope lurking in every corner. Even Gwen, whom Merlin had been devastated to lose, seemed to come around and had began to treat Merlin as she wished, as a friend, instead of a superior.

Merlin herself was different. She was starting to blossom into the queen that Arthur knew she would be, and had taken quite well to her post. Since she had ample knowledge on the inner workings of the castle, she began working to manage the various staff members. It gave her something to do, and she never felt aimless or idle. Arthur was pleased to see that his wife was finally acclimating to her new station, and it seemed as though Camelot was finally entering its gilded age.

Given this, it was a huge shock when a neighboring kingdom attacked the city. Arthur had gone out into battle without Merlin knowing, much to her chagrin, prompting her to go riding after him. In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best idea, but at the time, it was the only way she could assure herself that Arthur wouldn't get hurt.

He ended up getting hurt, but she was in far worse shape than he was by the time the battle was said and done.

Merlin woke up in Gaius' chambers, unsure what day it was or what had happened. She was severely disoriented and remarkably sore. That was all she had to infer that something horrid had happened during the time she could not remember. "Arthur?" she called out, weakly.

Gaius walked over to the bed and smiled at her. "You, my lady, are remarkably fortunate that your husband found you when he did."

Merlin sighed and closed her eyes. So, it had been Arthur who brought her here. She vaguely remembered something about Arthur. "Is he okay?" Merlin asked.

Gaius nodded and sat down in the chair next to her bed. "Why did you go riding out into battle after him? You should have known better, given your condition!"

What condition?

"Gaius, what are you talking about?"

It was evident that Gaius was expecting a different response to his scolding. His stern expression quickly dissipated into one of worry. "Merlin, do you not know?"

"Gaius, is something wrong?" she asked, propping herself up, albeit clumsily, onto her elbows.

He shook his head and smiled. "No, thankfully. You, my dear, are remarkably healthy, and the baby should be too. But, what you did by going off into battle, was wholesomely unwise."

"Baby?"

"By the looks of it, you're several months along."

"How is that possible?"

Gaius shifted in his seat, apparently about to explain how reproduction worked when Merlin realized that this was what he was about to do. "Oh, no… not like that. I know how that works," she assured him. "I mean… how could I have not known?"

"Lack of diligence?" Gaius suggested.

"Probably," Merlin sighed. "Does Arthur know?"

"Yes. He was not pleased to hear it from me. I assumed you knew, so I presented him with the news under that assumption. I apologize for any arguments or anger I may have provoked."

After confirmation that the baby was fine (Gaius had used some simple spells to verify that Merlin was indeed pregnant and that both mother and child were healthy), Gaius left her to the silence of her own head, which, given the news she had just received, was not very silent. How she had managed to remain ignorant to such an important revelation in her life was astounding. But, she was most concerned about was the fact that Arthur hadn't taken nicely to the news. He was surely about to come marching into the room and scold her for being so foolish, and in all fairness, he would be within his right. He would need to understand that she didn't know herself and he would need to be obliging and understanding in that respect, but his anger would not be a sign that he was apathetic to the child.

Arthur never came to Gaius' chambers. It was at least a day before Merlin saw her husband again, and it was only after she was deemed fit to return to normal life at court. Before leaving Gaius, she had asked him where she might be able to find Arthur. Gaius had instructed her to go to his study.

Quietly, Merlin padded along the long corridors of the castle until she reached Arthur's study. She slipped in the door and stood by the entryway, waiting for him to notice her. When he did, a frown creased his face. "Arthur?"

"I don't want to talk to you, Merlin."

"Gaius told me what happened. That you found me."

"After I told you _not_ to follow."

"Since when have I ever followed your directions?"

His fists clenched and he dropped his quill on the paper. In a flurry of rage, he stood up from his desk and approached her, too close for her comfort. She repelled him with magic, forcing him to step back. The intensity of the spell wasn't nearly as strong as it could be, but it was enough to keep him at arms distance. "Don't ever do that again," Merlin growled as she stepped closer to Arthur.

Arthur exhaled and stared at his wife. "How could you have done something so… stupid!" he bellowed. "You nearly killed yourself out there! And not just you, but…"

"If it's any condolence, I didn't know either."

She had noticed that he was gradually softening the longer she was in his presence, but those words were what really brought him back down. "You didn't?"

"Apparently I didn't notice the signs. But yes, I didn't know either. And had I known, of course, no doubt about it, I would have avoided that battlefield like it was a plague."

He frowned again. "You scared me. It was far worse than any other time you had gotten hurt."

"Yes. I know."

"No, Merlin; I don't think you do. I was genuinely afraid. More so than any other time. I need to know that you aren't just going to fade away from me. Promise me that, Merlin."

Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled. "I will never fade away from you."

"Merlin…"

"Arthur, what more do you want from me? I married you; I took a vow!"

"You're never going out in battle again. You understand?"

Arthur approached her and stopped when his boots reached the tips of her toes. "We will see," Merlin replied, failing to contain her need to make a cheeky retort. She needed some brevity in this conversation, and unfortunately, she had chosen a poor moment to impose it.

An unexpected cry escaped Arthur as he collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. His silent, shuddering sobs were uncharacteristic of Arthur, so Merlin was at a loss for how she should go about handling the situation. Awkwardly, she brought her hand up to his head and ran her fingers through his hair. "Arthur, I was kidding. I won't go into battle. I don't think we'd have armor that would fit."

He moved to look up at her, his wet cheeks rubbing against the fabric of her dress. "What?"

"You know, the baby? I'm going to get bigger. I don't think the armory would fit."

Arthur laughed and rested his forehead against her torso. "No, I don't think it would," he agreed. "Thank goodness for that."

"Are you okay?" Merlin asked after a moment's pause.

Arthur was still wrapped around her legs, impeding her ability to go anywhere, which may have been the purpose of this exercise. His odd crying fit had subsided, but he still seemed to find a need to be where he was. Merlin wondered if she would be able to use this as blackmail at any point in time, but for now, it probably wouldn't be necessary.

What drew heavily on her was the fact that she had used magic against her husband. After using magic to protect him or help him, she had just countered him with it. Even if it was as a means of self-defense, it had come far too readily for what Merlin was comfortable with. Had it been some sort of maternal instinct that had kicked in, even though it was Arthur, or was she still acting on her own volition?

He sighed against her before he moved his hands to her hips and tilted his head up at her. "Gaius says that the baby is healthy."

"Yes," Merlin confirmed. "Very healthy. I just need to start taking better care of myself."

"I couldn't agree more."

Arthur stood up and grasped Merlin's hand. "I'm sorry for coming at you like that. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Did I scare you?"

"In multiple ways."

"Fair point, but I meant, with my magic. Did I scare you with my magic?"

"Magic still doesn't completely sit comfortably with me, but I am becoming more and more acquainted with it. I understand why you used it against me. I think I would have been more scared if you hadn't stopped me. It would have meant that you've gone soft."

Merlin snorted. "Ha, as if I ever could," she joked before she swung their hands like a young maiden enamored with her first love.

"So, shall we break the news to the court?" Arthur asked her.

As she nodded to her husband, Merlin realized that she had never seen Arthur smile so broadly or so naturally or so easily as he was in that moment. No matter what the future had in store for them, they would be able to manage just fine.


	13. Chapter 13

Pregnancy, as Arthur found, was a mysterious and rather interesting point in a woman's life. In all actuality, it was more of a mysterious and interesting point in his life than it was for Merlin, but almost immediately after announcing the news to the court, it seemed like their new reality hit them instantaneously.

For whatever reason, the morning sickness afflicted Merlin later than usual, but after a few weeks of that travesty, it subsided, and she was back to her normal self. And by normal self, Arthur meant that Merlin became a rather ravenous beast that was just constantly hungry. Arthur found himself repeatedly awestruck by just how much food she was capable of eating. She would eat more than he was most of the time. Also, as her normal self, she found herself increasingly bored, so she would often go and bother Arthur.

Merlin refused to leave Arthur's side, despite his constant pleas to have her slow down because she wasn't nearly as nimble and quick as she had been before she was pregnant. Merlin, being Merlin, ignored this, saying that she could use magic if something went awry. Arthur was not convinced.

But Merlin rarely listened to her husband. It was her body and her decision and her child and she knew about seventy spells to make sure that she and the baby were safe. Of course, she understood where Arthur was coming from; after all, he wasn't always a prat. But, if he was going to smother her, tiptoeing around her and pretending that she didn't have a past of roaming freely around Camelot, she was going to have to defy him sooner or later.

Arthur was very aware of this, so he made sure that Merlin was able to get out of the castle and stretch her body and her mind. They took day trips around; the trips ranged from going down to the lower town to out into the forest. Arthur knew that Merlin's days of roaming were short-lived until the baby arrived, so the longer he could keep her going without her losing her mind, the better off they would be once she was cooped up in the castle.

Also acting in his favor was the onslaught of colder weather. Per Gaius' predictions, the baby would make his or her appearance in the middle of the winter, perhaps sometime towards the middle or the end of the season. Gaius warned that diligence was crucial for making sure the child would make it through the winter. All sources indicated that the coming winter would be colder than previous winters. He flanked his warning with a more positive prediction: the first months of the child's life would be spent in warmer weather, which meant that he or she would be in better shape as he or she became more curious and independent.

Arthur was relieved to hear such news, but at the back of his mind bore the very real possibility that Merlin and/or the child would not make it through the remainder of the pregnancy or the delivery. These grim thoughts plagued him as he fell asleep and as he rode with his men, serving as a wretched distraction to all the lightness that surrounded him and his kingdom. Camelot, for all that it stood for and all that stood with it, was entering a new age where magic and non-magic alike were reconciling, pushing the status of the kingdom forward. Merlin, herself, was not at the center of this, but everyone knew that she had a very large role in how the future was shaping up. No one knew this more than Arthur.

So, when they should have been discussing baby names and preparing the royal nursery and gearing up for the next greatest adventure of their lives, Arthur and Merlin remained rather ignorant to their reality, choosing to keep themselves blind to their future. They knew it was foolish; they knew the potential repercussions of such choices, but in the months before their first child was due, they decided they were going to make the most of the time they had remaining as just Arthur and Merlin.

Which was why Arthur was lenient with Merlin and her wily ways of getting around what Arthur had "forbidden" her to do. Rather than face the beast that Merlin could become given the mood swings (oh goodness, the mood swings), Arthur just made sure that Merlin was protected enough so that she was safe, but not overly stifled. She was his entire world, and he didn't wish to kill her spirit, but he didn't wish for her to be killed either. It was crucial to find a balance between these two.

Sometime during the middle of the fall, Arthur noticed that Merlin seemed to be slowing down some. She still kept up with him in most respects, but she had started to self-inhibit what she did with her time. Arthur often found her talking to her bump (which admittedly, wasn't much at that point) and recounting tales of her life at Camelot.

There was just _so much_ love in this new world that Arthur was only starting to experience. He adored his wife more than anything else in this existence, and now she was giving him even more love, demonstrating to him just how much she loved him and was committed to their lives together. Arthur had a million reasons to be happy, but he was still scared out of his mind, petrified that he would lose everything that kept him standing.

Which is why he was always near tears when he saw Merlin and saw all that was coming their way. It overwhelmed him and exhausted him and tore him to shreds before it sewed him back together, energized him, and relaxed him before it cycled through again.

Through all the chaos, Arthur held firm to one cardinal, undisputed promise.

He was not going to be the father that Uther had been.

Because Merlin wouldn't let him become that sort of man. Because she loved him and trusted him and was the other half to their whole.


	14. Chapter 14

Merlin was sitting in the bed with their newborn son between her legs. She was leaning over him, her face alit with a smile, talking to him. "Can you say Mum? Can you say it, sweetheart?" she asked the baby.

The snow on the ground outside made the entire world seem brighter than it was. The little boy, the future king of Camelot, was born wee hours of a snowy winter's morning. As it so happened, he ushered in a new year, serving as an omen of hope and prosperity for the kingdom. The delivery had come earlier than expected, but the infant had been born quite robust and screaming, much to the relief of virtually everyone in the palace.

The last month and a half of her pregnancy had been quite peculiar for Merlin. She hardly had any control over her body when it wasn't inhabited by anyone else, so the virtual loss of all control (the mood swings, the cravings, the mild case of narcolepsy, and the wholesomely unfamiliar feeling that having another human being within her) was challenging for her. She had become rather impatient and feared that she might resent her unborn child if he or she didn't make an appearance soon.

During the final weeks, she had spent most of her time in Arthur's study, sitting quietly as Arthur read over treaties and received news from all parts of the kingdom. Sometimes, she would wander down to Gaius' chambers and help him with his potions and tinctures. It wasn't as if she had the energy to do much help for Gaius, but she wanted to stay active, to remain useful.

Merlin was very much aware of Arthur's apprehensions about becoming a father. Knowing his mother's fate and how he feared the same would happen of Merlin, she made sure to assure him that everything would be done in order to avoid the fate of his mother. Though, sometimes it seemed rather foolish to tell Arthur these things when it was still quite possible that she could die. She knew that as a human, it was inevitable that she would die, but maybe her time would come sooner than expected.

There were plenty of things to worry about, but when the baby moved for the first time, Merlin started to worry even more. It wasn't just a bump that would keep growing; it was a live, living person in there. A person who would have a brain and a heart, intelligence and conscience, and would enter into a world of growing peace. Her child might have magic, it might not, but no matter what, that child would know tolerance.

The first time Arthur was able to feel the baby moving was when Merlin realized how much worry Arthur held within him. Though he had been just as excited about the baby moving as Merlin was, she saw the terror in his eyes.

The terror in Arthur's eyes would remain there until the moment that he saw that both Merlin and their child were safe and healthy. When the little boy was placed into his arms, the perpetual terror in Arthur's eyes was replaced with eternal joy, and maybe even a little pride. They had created this. They had created the future of Camelot (having a bit of fun whilst doing it), and there was nothing they couldn't do.

Arthur had held their son for a few minutes before he explained that he needed to go and send out a few messengers with their news. Merlin had expressed her disappointment and disapproval for the decision, given the weather and the fact that she hadn't wanted Arthur to have to leave so soon. He assured her that he wouldn't be gone long, and once he was done, there was very little that would take him away from them. This had appeased Merlin, who had taken the baby back and had cradled him against her chest before drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon, and the baby was still with her. Arthur was not in the room, but the midwife assured her that he would return in a little while. He had wanted to allow her some time to sleep.

Her son was the most beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes upon. Though he didn't have much of it, she could tell that he had Arthur's hair. The boy's features were slight and infantile, but as he grew older, it would become easier to distinguish from whom he had inherited his facial structure from. Based on how he clutched to Merlin's shift, she suspected that he would have a steady grip on the play swords that Arthur would undoubtedly have him working with as soon as he was able to walk.

He was still asleep, so she couldn't tell what color his eyes were. She supposed that he would have blue eyes, given that both she and Arthur had blue eyes, but there were distinct differences between their eyes. Time would be the final purveyor of truth in that case.

The infant was the smallest person she'd ever been around. Granted, while she had been delivering him, he hadn't seemed small at all, but now that he was sleeping on her chest, he was remarkably small. Perhaps it was because she was so exhausted, despite getting a fair amount of sleep, but Merlin couldn't formulate just how much she adored her child.

Arthur returned to the room a little while later, kicking off his boots and climbing into the bed next to Merlin, who was asking her son if he could start talking only hours after being born. "He's certainly brilliant, but I think you might be expecting a little too much from him," Arthur laughed.

Merlin smiled down at her son as she grasped her son's feet and rubbed his little toes until they were pinker than purple. "Never too early to start," she clucked.

Arthur rested his head on Merlin's shoulder and sighed. "Thank you," he murmured.

"You're welcome."

"He is perfect, isn't he?"

"It would appear so," she replied.

The little boy started to niggle and flail about. Merlin, who initially had tensed at the disturbance, scooped him up and untied the neck opening of her tunic, pulling it down so her left breast was exposed. Much to the dismay of Arthur, she adjusted the baby so that he was able to suckle. It was obvious that she had no idea what she was doing, but was determined to make it work somehow. "You know, there is a wet-nurse who is supposed to do that," Arthur reminded her.

"Arthur, there is no way I would have a wet-nurse do what I am perfectly capable of doing. Rhys is fine where he is."

"Rhys?"

"Oh… right. I suppose I should have asked you before I called him that. I would like to name him Rhys."

Arthur thought for a moment before he nodded. "It works. I like it."

Meanwhile, in Arthur's study, the quill was busy drafting up official notices with the new prince's name, Prince Rhys Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot.

A new day had come to Camelot.


	15. Chapter 15

His Royal Highness, Rhys Pendragon, was quite the challenge. He had been an absolute delight before he started walking, but the second he was up and steady on his feet, he became an absolute nightmare. He had the propensity to run away from his parents and received such delight from hiding from them. Fortunately, he wasn't very good at the hiding part, so if he ran off, he wasn't hard to find.

He had grown quite a bit since the previous winter, from the tiny infant that seemed so delicate, to the running and jumping little blond-haired boy with his mother's eyes. Rhys was always jubilant, laughing with ease. His boundless energy proved promising for Arthur, who had every intention of training his son to be a noble knight. Arthur knew that Rhys would be ready to start working with the dummy swords in the spring. He couldn't have been more grateful for the timing of his birth.

Merlin had been diligent about monitoring Rhys for any signs of magic, but as he approached the completion of his first year, she hadn't observed any of the crucial behaviors associated with children born with magic. Arthur wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that their son didn't appear to possess magic tendencies, but was determined to support Merlin in her quest to assure that their son tolerated people of all types; not just those with magic. Arthur was still committed to not being the father that his father was, and this was the best way he knew how not to be Uther.

Arthur eventually decided that he was a little disappointed that Rhys didn't seem to possess magic. Merlin had taught Arthur that not all magic was bad, and he had come to value how she used it. There was a distinct difference between how Merlin used magic and how Morgana used magic. And since Merlin had long defeated Morgana, Merlin would serve as the best example as to what magic was for.

Uther was certainly rolling over in his grave. The son of Uther, sad that his own child didn't possess magic. That was certainly a change.

Over the past year, the boots, shield, and quill had all seemed to behave quite well. Arthur didn't know what had become of the broom, but considering he didn't have an affinity towards the broom, he didn't dwell on the matter.

Wherever Rhys was, the boots were likely nearby. Arthur never knew how the boots ended up near the boy, but it was almost as if the boots were Rhys' caretaker. He never seemed to mind them; he enjoyed chewing on the leather when he was teething. At least he wasn't gnawing on hair, as he had done whenever Gwen or Merlin was looking after him.

He adored Gwen; she was one of the few adults that could get near him without him starting to fuss or cry. Lucky for Rhys, Gwen adored him too, and was more than willing to help keep track of him.

But it was Merlin who was best with him. Of course that made sense; mothers were typically the best with their children, but with Rhys, simply the hint of her presence made him change. Arthur was always so frustrated with this; he had trouble trying to coerce Rhys into compliance most of the time, whereas Merlin simply had to blink at him, and Rhys would immediately behave. Though, as Arthur thought more of it, he suspected that maybe magic had some role in Merlin's parenting skills.

If Arthur had adored Merlin before Rhys came along, he adored her about ten times more now. She had blossomed even more, affirming and reaffirming several times over all the reasons why he had asked her to marry him. She was the wife and queen he needed in order to serve his kingdom well, and she had given him a magnificent gift of her life and of Rhys' life.

Their lives were comfortable and settled.

But that was surely too good to be true, right?


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I'm so thrilled that everyone seems to be enjoying the story thus far. Thank you for all your kind comments and favorites!

With that said, I fear that my updates will become a little slower. I am at a full course load this quarter, and my courses hold higher priority to my writing (unfortunately). I will try to be consistent and have every intention to finish the story in a timely matter. In case it starts looking like the updates are getting slower, that's what the situation is.

Other than that, I really do appreciate your reviews and commentary. Thank you all!

* * *

All Merlin was aware of was the soft whimpering sound she heard to her right. And then there was a searing pain across her chest that became even more obvious. As she came to, she realized that the whimpering was Rhys, and she had been cut. But what had caused this was still unclear.

Fortunately, Morgana had enough sense to help her resolve that mystery. "He's such a lovely boy. Looks exactly like Arthur."

Merlin was now very much aware of where she was and what was going on. "If you hurt him, I will have your head."

She didn't even stop to wonder how Morgana had arisen from her defeat, but she had. How Morgana did things was always beyond the scope of their understanding. Magic was certainly involved, but to what degree was unknown. And right then, it really didn't matter how it had happened; it just mattered that it had happened.

Rhys was on the ground next to Morgana, about seven strides away from her feet. So, she could easily snatch him up and/or hurt him.

"Oh, that won't be necessary."

"Really?" Merlin scoffed as she stood up from the ground.

Her entire body was aching and she was shaky, but her son was in peril and there was no amount of pain that could keep her away from that boy. She stood up from the ground and moved towards Morgana. Morgana threw a few spells Merlin's way, but Merlin was able to easily block them and return the favor. Morgana wasn't nearly as quick as Merlin, but she wasn't an easy opponent.

Morgana was getting far too close to Rhys for Merlin's liking. And as result, what happened next would always be unclear to Merlin. A flurry of magic and light and spell casting flew between the two women, hopefully leaving Rhys unscathed. Shouting from both Merlin and Morgana rang out through the space around them.

When Rhys started to cry, startled by the noise, Merlin knew Morgana would take Merlin's distraction and use it to her benefit. So, Merlin shot a spell towards Rhys, and Morgana retaliated by shooting something towards Merlin that threw her back to the ground. Morgana ran over to Rhys and as soon as she attempted to touch him so that she might snatch him away, she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Her hand was singed and the smell of burnt flesh quickly emanated within Merlin's nose. She wrinkled her nose at the scent, but pushed it aside. Merlin didn't even know what spell she had put on Rhys, which terrified her, but because it had somehow hurt Morgana, she was relieved.

Morgana wasn't going to let that one slide.

She was almost successful in getting Merlin off-guard when Merlin turned around and hurled another spell at Morgana. Morgana only narrowly avoided it, and geared up for another spell. She didn't realize that before she could return the gesture, Merlin had Arthur's shield. "What?" Morgana hissed as she conjured up the curse. "How did you get Arthur's shield?"

"Magic?" Merlin asked, failing to see the humor in the statement.

But it fell on deaf ears, because the shield blocked and reflected the spell back at Morgana. Merlin hadn't heard the exact spell, but based on the fact that Morgana now lay on the ground, dead, she could only assume that she had narrowly missed death.

She wasn't on her feet too much longer; the pain surged in intensity and she was on the ground again, unconscious.

Some time later, Merlin whimpered in her sleep, wincing as Arthur sat down on the bed next to her, cradling a sleeping Rhys. "Are you awake?" Arthur asked her.

She grumbled incoherently in her sleep. "Oh, good," Arthur replied, sighing in relief. "Because I thought it would be hard to understand you."

Waking up was notoriously painful, but she managed. She wanted to find the easiest thing to indicate that she was awake. Merlin opened one eye, finding even that to be a challenge, and tried to glare at him. "Yes?" she finally mumbled.

"Gaius told me it was Morgana. They found her body not too far away from where you were."

"Yes… she's dead."

"We figured as such, because she didn't wake up or show any signs of life," Arthur replied gently, a cheeky glint appearing in his eye.

"Good."

"And then, they found Rhys, near my shield… which I found odd… asleep."

"Sleeping charm," she explained.

"That was what Gaius decided. He seems to be in it still. How much longer do you think he'll be asleep for, and why haven't you thought of doing this sooner? All those nights when he would cry endlessly… Merlin, come on now!"

"It lasts for three days," Merlin answered. "And usually, it's not the best thing to do, especially on young children. But, in that moment, it was the best hope he had. It also serves as a repelling protective charm."

"Oh."

"So, how long have I been out for?"

"A day or so. You were unconscious when we brought you back."

"That makes sense."

She rolled onto her side and faced Arthur and Rhys, quietly admiring her two boys together. Something that Arthur had said before clicked with her and she remembered something important. "Your shield… the one that you use for your tournaments… you said that was with us?"

"Rhys was asleep next to it."

"I was very surprised to find it. I wasn't expecting to find it out in the forest. I didn't know it had been lost."

"It wasn't lost."

"But why was it in the forest?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Arthur lied.

"Well, however it got there, it certainly served us well. Whatever it is forged of is particularly useful against spells."

"Is it now?" Arthur asked, sounding genuinely surprised by this news.

"I've never seen anything like it. And I was trying to remember if you had ever used it against magic, and I couldn't remember a time. Of course, it was right after a rather eventful attack, so my memory may have not been working at its fullest."

Arthur nodded mutely, adjusting Rhys in his lap and stared out the window. "But Morgana is dead."

"She was audacious enough to think that she could get away with harming Rhys."

"So, how long did that last, exactly?"

"How long did what last?"

"Morgana's upper hand."

"What makes you think that she ever had an upper hand in the matter?"

"Oh… she always seems to get herself there."

"She laid a single finger on Rhys and not even half a second later, she was on the ground. She put up a good fight, but you know, as far as the whole Emrys thing goes, she wasn't a fair match. Against someone else, sure. But me? Hardly."

Arthur laughed at the haughty tone Merlin used when recounting her battle with Morgana. "Good to see you remain humble."

"Sorry," Merlin apologized glibly.

"No you're not…" Arthur chuckled before continuing. "But, actually, it's a nice change. You need to take credit where credit is due."

"Oh no… I've gotten too boastful. That isn't a good thing."

"Merlin, you saved several lives today. Can you just revel in that and stop trying to run away from my compliments and affirmations for once?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. She needed some peace and quiet. They all needed some peace and quiet for a change.


	17. Chapter 17

Shortly after leaving Merlin to sleep, Arthur examined his shield, quietly muttering words of gratitude to the armor. Maybe the shield wasn't so bad after all.

But the broom and the boots? Well… he hadn't seen the broom since before Rhys was born, and the boots were a fairly decent teething mechanism for Rhys, but beyond that, useless.

The quill and the shield had certainly earned their keep. Arthur came to value his shield (not locking in the closet as he had done prior to the encounter with Morgana) almost as much as he did with his trusty quill. There wasn't a day that Arthur went that he didn't use the quill and wonder what his father might have thought had he known the extent to which magic buttressed Arthur's reign.

As he thought back on the previous days and made note to secure the kingdom a bit better because it was still unclear as to how Merlin and Rhys had ended up out in the field with Morgana, he retreated to his bed and prayed that their days would become easier.

As time went on, Arthur found less and less time to worry about such matters. Within the next four years, another two sons would join the royal family. Bowen, the middle son, was born the spring after Rhys turned three. Gareth, the youngest son, was born two summers after Bowen. Both Bowen and Gareth shared Rhys' inclination towards a sword, but approached their early training quite differently.

Bowen was the stronger of the two younger boys, and as he grew older, was better than Rhys was with a sword. He ran before he walked, and demanded (quite literally demanded; he was talking much earlier than Rhys had, which came as a bit of a surprise to his parents) that he start training within days of realizing that he could do almost anything his older brother could do. A week after starting his training, Arthur knew that the knights of neighboring kingdoms would have a force to reckon with in Bowen.

Gareth, on the other hand, was better with blocking out his motions. He was a bit slower to join his brothers on the training grounds, always more secure if he was by Merlin's side, but once he was drawn out of his shell a little more with quite a bit of coaxing from Arthur, Gareth warmed to the idea of playing around with the knights. Unlike the older boys, Gareth wasn't good with improvisation with the sword and did best with explicit directions. Off the training grounds, Gareth was always wandering around the castle, somehow able to find people in the castle. He never seemed to be lost.

All three boys had Arthur's coloring, but each brother had successively darker hair than their older brother. And none of the boys seemed to possess any magic, which was still very disheartening to Arthur. He had really hoped that Merlin's magic would be passed along to at least one of his sons; the three boys were being raised to understand the inner workings of the kingdom, and he had hoped that at least one of them would have magic so that the magic within the kingdom would be aptly represented.

Arthur didn't know if Merlin was upset about the boys not having magic. If she was, she never indicated as such. Arthur suspected that she was relieved about the boys not having magic; he recognized that he didn't really know what it was like living a life with magic, previously under the constant threat of persecution, but he hoped that she would have at least wanted to pass along something so important down to her sons.

Regardless, the family seemed closer to completion, with three heirs to the throne. Uther would be pleased to know that his son had procured three solid, strong heirs to the throne of Camelot, and maybe even pleased that it had been Merlin who had helped bring them there. Arthur loved her more than he had the day he had married her. It surprised him that his love for her grew; he had always thought that love had a finite limit.

But every time he saw her with their sons, running around and helping them with their armor and their reading and tutoring, doing much of the same things she had done with Arthur when she had worked under him, his heart swelled with pride. She was his, forever.

And he was hers, forever.

Arthur sometimes wondered what Merlin thought of him. He knew that she would remain faithful until her dying day, but even then, her loyalties would never truly fade away. But he couldn't gauge how she saw him. Why would a woman like her, completely capable of her own thoughts and feelings, marry him? After all those years together, he still couldn't quite pin it down.

Sometimes he thought he had it from a glint she would get in her eye or how he would catch her watching him from across the training green as she mended shirts and kissed bumps and scrapes, but then, almost instantaneously, it would fade away from view. It frustrated him, because Merlin could qualify that she loved him, but he could never see it quantified. He had his sons because of her, and that should have been enough, but he was always second-guessing himself. He needed her, every bit of her, and he knew that he had her for as long as he lived, but he needed to know that she needed him too; that he wasn't just some hindrance in her life. He wanted to make her as happy as she made him.

One evening, long after Merlin had gotten the boys to bed and had gone to bed herself, Arthur sat awake in his study, reading over a treaty that had been drafted for the meetings that Arthur would be having with a visiting prince the following day. The quill must have known his worry because it hopped to attention and scrawled a single name on a scrap piece of paper.

_Hunith_.

"What?" Arthur murmured.

A single sentence. _Go to Hunith_.

"Why?"

_She needs you_.

"Me, or Merlin?"

_Both_.

"Oh come off it; I know you know better. Why does she need both of us?"

_She is ailing_.

Dread filled his stomach and he sighed Arthur didn't need any more answers. His heart was heavy now. They would be going to Ealdor as soon as possible.


	18. Chapter 18

Merlin really didn't like travelling with the kids. Now, that didn't mean that she didn't love her boys, but if she had a preference, she would have left them back in Camelot. But no. Arthur had insisted that they were all together in case something happened.

She understood the logic (the thought of the boys being orphaned or losing one of them or losing all of them scared her), but the raging headache she had because of the boys was really negating that point. Gareth was yammering on about how they could take a better route whilst clinging to her skirts and Rhys was running ahead of them while yelling insults back at Bowen, who was throwing rocks at Rhys. Arthur, _magically_, seemed to not care that his sons were being troublesome, which drove Merlin mad.

And if that weren't enough, she wasn't on a horse. She was used to being on a horse, but because the boys hadn't quite mastered horseback riding, she was walking along the path with them. It was almost too much to bear.

So, of course, a rock would end up hitting her.

"That's. Enough!" she bellowed unexpectedly.

The party stopped dead and instantly, Bowen and Rhys' eyes widened in horror. Gareth had jumped, startled by the loud noise, but quickly recovered. He seemed to know what was about to happen to his older brothers. Bowen and Rhys took off running, and Merlin stopped them with a quick snap of her fingers. Both boys were sent down to the ground as Merlin approached them. "Okay, that's enough. All three of you, in front of me, walking in a straight line. Bowen, I told you not to throw rocks; Rhys, I know you know better than to torment your brother, and Gareth, I honestly don't know what you were doing, but go and serve as a good example for your brothers. As for you, Arthur, it's your turn to walk with them."

Arthur was trying to hide the smirk on his face, but wasn't doing a very good job at it. He slid off of the horse and handed the reins over to Merlin, who hopped up as if it were nothing at all. "The sooner we get to Ealdor, the better chance those three have at surviving the trip," Merlin muttered under her breath as Arthur walked past her.

He chuckled quietly and gestured for the party to resume their walking.

She was exhausted. Being Arthur's manservant for as long as she had had been exhausting, but motherhood was something quite different. She didn't ache as much as she had when Arthur still had her at his disposal, physically at least, but the worry was all-consuming. There was always something that could hurt her boys or disrupt their lives. And now that it was quite possible that Hunith was in her last days, that was another worry.

Hunith had only seen the boys maybe once or twice. Of course, she had been there when Rhys was born, and she had come around again when Bowen and Gareth had come along, but it had been only once or twice that she had seen all three of her grandsons at once. Merlin felt guilty that the only times she had made a concerted effort to come back to Ealdor were when Hunith was ailing or when Merlin needed something from her mother, but those were the only circumstances under which it was acceptable for Merlin to return. But now, if Hunith was able, she was going to be coming back with them to Camelot. It was only fitting that Merlin's family could all be in one place, under her nose.

Another few hours passed and the boys were getting tired. Arthur was running through their training techniques, keeping the boys busy as they walked, trying to distract them from the fact that they were exhausted, but even he was starting to show signs of exhaustion. Merlin knew it wouldn't be long before they were in Ealdor, but if the kids couldn't keep up the pace, they would have to stop over for the night.

The boys finally tired but they were so close to Ealdor that the knights took the boys up on their horses and they rode the rest of the way into the city. It was early morning when Merlin led the knights into the city, trying to be as quiet as possible, trying not to startle the villagers. She hopped off her horse and nearly ran to her childhood home.

After entering the hut quietly, finding a few women from the village surrounding Hunith's bed, Merlin uttered her gratitude before taking up the work of tending to her mother. "Hello Mum," she murmured as she sat down next to her mother's cot and pushed back the hair from her mother's sweaty forehead.

As she did so, Merlin used a few spells she had come to know very well by tending to her boys who seemed to be a cesspool of germs. Her fever subsided and her mother's breathing stabilized to a stronger rate. Of course, Hunith would require more time to become stronger, but for now, Merlin could relax a little.

When Arthur had told her that a messenger had come from Ealdor with news of her mother's illness, Merlin had been horrified. She had initially been confused about why the messenger hadn't told her instead of Arthur, but that confusion wore away to the fear of losing her mother. Beyond the boys, her mother was her only other living relative, and Merlin hated how far away her mother was from Camelot.

After years of trying to get Hunith to come away from Ealdor, it would seem that now they were taking her unwillingly back to Camelot. Merlin was done with worrying that her mother wasn't well, especially since her fears were now founded. Hunith, of course, wouldn't take nicely to this decision being made for her, but as her daughter, Merlin felt that she had an obligation to her mother to make sure that she was cared for. And since Merlin couldn't really leave Camelot, Hunith was probably best off coming back with them.

Besides, it was always easier to apologize than to ask for permission.

It would be nice having the whole family together again.


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur found his mother-in-law to be a beneficial entity to have roaming around the castle. She had recovered quickly upon their return to Camelot, and under the care of both Gaius and Gwen, Hunith was a new woman. It was astounding how quickly she was up and running around after the boys, clearly pleased with her role as the royal grandmother.

One afternoon, Hunith found Arthur out on the training grounds with the knights and the boys, and she sat quietly, waiting for an audience with him. When he approached her and sat down, Hunith reached over and grasped Arthur's hand. "I feel like I've known the boys for ages, despite the fact that I've only known them a short while."

Two things about that shook Arthur's attention. First: she had never been so forthcoming with affection; second: he felt like he had known the boys for ages too. Now, of course, he had known the boys since the day each of them had been born, and he saw all the similarities the boys shared with he and Merlin, but there was something more to it.

Arthur studied his mother-in-law before he squeezed her hand gently. "Hunith, I apologize, but you will have to excuse me for a moment."

He stood up from his seat and marched up towards the castle. Once inside, Arthur hurried to his study and shut the door securely behind him before sitting down at the desk. "There's a point to it, isn't there? The point to all of you: the boots, the broom, the shield, and you. What is it?"

The quill was slow to move to respond but when it did, Arthur was amazed.

_Yes. It took you long enough_.

He stood staring at the piece of paper, a mixture of dismay and amazement on his face. "So, the boots, broom, shield, and you… you're all the… oh, I don't know how to say it properly, so I'll just call you souls… of my children. Meaning that you are the soul of my child too. And once they're born… you're born… that's why the shield and the boots and the broom all returned to normal, because your souls had a body to go to."

_Yes_.

Arthur jumped up from his chair and gave a sharp holler. "AHA! So, I haven't been going mad all these years!"

_Well_…

"Oh, hush," Arthur scolded lightly. "You try being the king of a kingdom that has had a unilateral ban on magic for decades before it's lifted and then you're inundated with inanimate objects coming to life."

The quill hovered on its nib before it gently fell to the desk. "What? That's it? I don't get anything more?"

Hesitantly, the quill moved back to attention. Arthur watched in earnest, wanting to know everything he could possibly know about this. "You are my child. Which means that there's a fourth."

_Yes, this is true. I will be your fourth child_.

"Any idea when you're going to be making an appearance? I don't think Merlin… or… your mother, will really take to having another one so soon. But then again, we shouldn't wait too long."

_I can't tell you when I'm going to be born because I don't know. That is up to you and Merlin_.

"Do you know what gender you are?"

_No. Not all souls are assigned a gender. Some are; they live out their lives as only one gender, but most are not_.

Arthur sat down and steepled his fingers under his chin. "I like you. You've been the most useful."

_Thank you_.

He drew in a deep breath and then stood up again. "If there's anything, anything at all, that I can do for you…"

_You will be my father one day. I think that's enough, no_?

The quill seemed to quiver in such a way that made Arthur think that maybe it was laughing. A quill that laughed; well, that wasn't actually so weird given the fact that he had a broom that was Rhys, and Rhys made sure he was conceived. He had a shield that had been Bowen, saving Rhys' life before Merlin had even conceived him. He even had a pair of boots that had followed him around, very much a Gareth thing to do. How he hadn't seen this before was beyond him, but now that he did, Arthur couldn't help but feel somewhat sentimental toward these objects. Perhaps one day, he would present each of his children with their symbolic objects and tell them the outlandish story.

But for now, he had to go and figure out how to acquire his fourth heir. He required the assistance of his wife.


	20. Chapter 20

Merlin was hiding in a cupboard in an abandoned hallway in the castle, trying to hide from Arthur. Something drastic had happened with the arrival of her mother, and she had no idea how to get Arthur to snap out of his bizarre behavior.

She knew that Arthur had needs (she had them too) but the means he had resorted to in order to have them met was rather ridiculous. He would follow her around the castle, trying to pull her away from her tasks. When she had pointed out that he also had tasks to attend to, he simply dug his fists into his hips, puffed his chest out, and announced that as the king he "could do whatever he bloody pleased".

Which was why she was in a cupboard, poring over a spell book under the light generated by magic, trying to figure out how to get her husband to snap out of whatever it was that was ailing him. She suspected his condition was far graver than she anticipated; she had caught him talking to a quill the other day. The quill seldom left his side these days.

It wasn't normal, and no one else seemed to be concerned about Arthur. Merlin was frustrated; why didn't people think to keep an eye out for Arthur? He was only the highest authority in the land after all. Was it really her job to be the only person to look after the man?

Merlin left the cupboard some time later, wanting to steal away as quickly and stealthily as possible to avert the attention of Arthur or those who would betray her in favor of Arthur. She wanted to get to his study to collect the quill, if it was there, to examine it closer.

Fortunately, she was able to get to his study and the quill was there. She figured she was pretty lucky to have had both happen, but she wasn't about to celebrate while she was still not out of the woods yet. Quill in hand, she hurried out of the study and down to the abandoned cave where Kilgarrah had once been captive. It was the most logical place to go, given the fact that no one ever ventured down there.

With torches illuminated, Merlin sat down with the quill and closely examined it, looking for the key signatures to objects that had been laced with magic. The usual marks were not present, but she felt a sort of energy that eradiated itself through her skin and her veins, causing her worry. "Oh, this isn't good. You are enchanted, aren't you?" she murmured to the quill, turning it over in her hand delicately, afraid of what jostling might do.

It was strange magic. Merlin was an expert on pinpointing dark magic, but this wasn't even remotely close to dark magic. She had heard of malignant magic that disguised itself as benign, but she had never experienced it firsthand, so she couldn't tell if this was one of those instances. She knew that it couldn't be good for Arthur to have such exposure to something so mysterious and suspicious.

After some time, Merlin found herself cradling the quill in her lap. There was something about this quill that was comforting (and in the same, discomforting) to her. It was dangerous if it was so soothing. How long had this been around Arthur, and what had this made him do? Had this weakened her husband?

She returned to the castle, quietly slipping in as though she had never left. Merlin went to relieve her mother of the boys, who were all demanding another bedtime story from their grandmother. After leading the boys to bed, Merlin sat down with her mother. "Mum… do you think Arthur has been acting strangely lately?" she asked quietly.

Hunith looked up from the mending she and Merlin were working on. "Strangely? How strange are you talking about, because he always seems a bit strange to me."

Merlin laughed and grabbed up a shirt to mend. "Beyond the usual abnormality, of course. He just seems a little lost in his own world, that's all."

Hunith hummed in reply, seeming to understand Merlin's point. "Well, he probably has a lot of things on his mind. You know, the things that come with being the king."

Though she had trouble with it, Merlin held in a laugh. Arthur didn't have a lot of things on his mind; he had one thing on his mind, but a lot of it. She figured she should be relieved that he still was sexually attracted to her, but she wished that he wasn't as forthcoming with it. She was well aware of his needs and her role in helping him with that; there wasn't any need to chase her around the castle like a sexually frustrated male teenager who had just discovered the existence of females. Both she and Arthur were quickly approaching their mid-thirties and knew what sex led to. Their mischievous trio was excellent evidence that Arthur and Merlin were quite accustomed to sex.

Of course, Merlin couldn't tell this to her mother. She trusted her mother with her entire life, but there were definitive elements of her life that were not proper to share with her mother at this point in her life. Not that they were proper to share with her mother at any point of her life, but especially now that Hunith was living with them under her nose, it was wholesomely improper.

So, Merlin would just have to wait it out and keep hiding in obscure places, hoping that Arthur would soon tire of his quest to bed her. The last thing she needed was her husband, possibly under the spell of a magic quill, potentially putting her in the position so that they would have to explain the facts of life to their sons.


	21. Chapter 21

Upon discovering the absence of the quill, Arthur panicked. He went running through the castle, asking where his quill had gone. After being assured that there were plenty of other quills he could use, Arthur realized that he was being a lunatic and there was absolutely no rhyme or reason for his actions, at least to everyone else. He was terrified that something had happened to the quill and if it were harmed in some way, the soul of the, theoretically-speaking, fourth child would be compromised.

It went unfound for several days until it showed up on his desk again, seemingly unscathed. A single note was scrawled on a pad nearby:

_Merlin knows something isn't right with me. Or you. Try not to draw attention to me. _

And so he didn't. He would continue to use the quill, but he wouldn't obsess over it as fervently. It was important that he not draw attention to the quill, at the risk of what it might mean for the future of the soul in the quill.

* * *

The quill still wrote on its own, now almost thirteen years after it had taken to doing simple tasks without Arthur's aid. And the longer it did this, the more and more sorrow Arthur had, saddened by the fact that a fourth child still had not made his or her appearance. Of course, there was still some promise that a fourth child would come along, but he knew that neither he nor Merlin would be young forever, so if they were going to have another child, it would have to be soon. The thought that maybe they wouldn't fulfill that destiny crossed his mind, but because that thought scared him (because there were a great deal of reasons why things could fall through), he tried not to dwell on it.

In all fairness, Arthur rather liked the quill. By now, the quill's personality had become quite distinct: talented, a little timid, but extraordinarily capable of getting the job done. The longer the quill remained in this state, the more and more Arthur longed to meet this child. A quill could only do so much.

Merlin seemed to notice Arthur's melancholia, but had attributed it to the coming anniversary of his father's passing. It would be fifteen years since King Uther had passed, and Merlin knew that Arthur viewed this more as a warning to him than a remembrance of his father. She had never truly known her father, and she fortunately hadn't lost her mother, so she didn't know how to support her husband beyond standing as his confidant, as she had done for nearly twenty years.

One evening, Arthur crawled into bed with Merlin, who was trapped under the youngest of their boys. Gareth, at age six, still had trouble with nightmares, and in his capacity to get around the castle with his eyes closed, had apparently made his way into his mother's bed without issue. Arthur tried not to wake her, but as soon as he pulled the covers down and settled down, she reached over and touched him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, but relaxed when he saw the moonlight reflecting off of Merlin's eye. "You scared me," he mumbled.

"Sorry," she whispered. "We have to be quiet… Gareth had some trouble with nightmares again."

Arthur gave a slight nod and snuggled underneath the blanket until he felt comfortable. Despite the fact that he was beside his wife and one of his sons, he still felt unsettled. "Merlin?" he asked after a few minutes of lying silently in the bed.

She hummed in reply, prompting him to continue. "Do you ever…?"

He hesitated. There was the distinct possibility that Arthur would say the wrong thing and he would let it slip that he was seeing animated objects where they shouldn't be. "Yes?" she asked.

"Do you ever feel like we are incomplete?"

"Incomplete?"

"You know… that something is missing."

Of the many questions her husband could come to her with in the wee hours of the morning, Merlin was not expecting this one. "Missing in what sense?"

"I don't know. I just keep feeling like there is something missing from our lives."

"A person, a place, a decision… what?"

"I don't think our family is complete," he finally asserted.

"You don't think our family is complete?" she echoed.

"No."

"Arthur, with all respect, I think our family is complete enough. You didn't have to go through childbirth."

He snorted quietly. "And don't get me wrong; I am extraordinarily grateful that the boys are happy and healthy. I'm saying that I think maybe we should try for another."

Arthur's heart sank when he heard Merlin give a disappointed sigh. "Go to sleep, Arthur," she finally said as she clasped his hand. "We will talk about this later."

He didn't want to talk about it later. They might not have much time now, and later, they would have even less time. Time was of the essence, and the sooner they acted on this, the sooner he could put his mind at ease. He loved his wife, he loved his sons, hell, he even loved his mother-in-law, but he also loved whomever the quill represented.

Arthur couldn't tell Merlin the truth outright. He'd sound mental. There had to be some way of telling her the truth without him sounding like a lunatic, before it was too late.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you so much for your wonderful comments and all the follows and favorites. It's stuff like that that makes my little writer's heart swell with happiness.

I haven't quite figured out how the ending will go, but I am marching along. Again, with my courses picking up, I will probably drop off on my timely updates, but know that I haven't abandoned the work.

Thank you again, and enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

It seemed like Merlin was running away more and more often these days. Yet again, on a crisp early-spring morning, Arthur ran after Merlin, calling after her as she galloped away by horse. By the time he could get to the stables to get his horse, she was already far into the lower city, possibly out of the city.

He rode for almost an hour and a half before he found her, sitting out over the field where he had found her years before. The fields were blooming in the same quilt of colors and textures. It looked older now, so Arthur figured that Merlin hadn't done anything to change it. Instead, he tied his horse next to Merlin's and approached her slowly. "You come here often?" he called.

She turned around to look at him. Her face was expressionless, but he could tell that something was quite wrong. "Merlin?"

"I'm pregnant. Happy?"

He draped the red cloak down on the ground between them and sat down. "I don't understand…"

"You managed to get your fourth heir."

"It could be four and five," he joked, knowing that wouldn't be the case.

Merlin slapped the laughter out of his voice.

"Or it's just the fourth."

She glared at him and he could tell that he would be a very lucky man if he made it back to Camelot alive. She was not pleased, but he honestly didn't know why. Babies were good things. "Merlin, what's wrong?"

"I don't want another child!" she exclaimed. "I've already got four!"

"What?"

"I've got the boys, and I've got you. How many more children could I possibly handle?" she asked him, her voice still shrill, but Arthur didn't find himself wincing as violently as he had with her first exclamation.

"Merlin, I don't understand."

With a groan, she flopped back onto his cloak and sighed. "I can't do this again. I nearly killed myself with the workload when I was pregnant with Gareth; I can't do this again."

"I'll help out more."

She scoffed and moved her right arm so that it was resting across her ribs. "You don't know the slightest thing about parenthood."

"I do too!" he protested.

"Really? Is that why the boys misbehave when you are looking after them?"

"I don't have magic."

"You think that's how I do it? I use magic?"

"Of course. How else do you do it?"

"By not being a pushover," she informed him.

Arthur sighed and moved so that he was lying on his side next to her. "Why don't you want another one? Please be serious."

"I am being serious."

"You don't want another one because it's just more work? Of course, I understand that, but there's more to it. I just know there is more to it."

"What if I die, Arthur? I mean, it's a very real possibility that I won't make it through another one. I'm not as young as I once was, and we are just testing fate with this one."

"We will be fine. You will be fine. The baby will be fine. Everyone and everything will be fine."

"You say that…"

"Merlin, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you. I've always told you that. Have I ever been wrong?"

"Well, yes."

"When?"

"Um, let's see. There were those occasions before I was no longer your manservant; then there was Morgana; and then there was the issue with the centaur a few years ago, and how could I possibly forget the time you put me on an unbroken horse that turned out to have wings?" she exclaimed.

Arthur's brow furrowed as he frowned. "Those were instances that went beyond my control," he explained.

"Right. And if something goes wrong with the pregnancy, there is nothing you will be able to do about it. It's not something where you can intervene and save the day."

"But you could."

Her eyes widened and she sat up on her elbows. "With the use of magic? And go the route of your mother? Not a chance, Arthur."

And now they were back at square one, where they had been with the first pregnancy. Now he was afraid. But, as an added twist, Merlin was afraid too. Brilliant.

He would need to consult with the quill.


	23. Chapter 23

The mornings that Merlin would wake up with Arthur's head resting on her belly were becoming more and more common. It would seem that he had taken to standing vigil to make sure nothing happened to either Merlin or the baby during the night. She would have thought it sweet, except for the fact that he was pressing on her bladder, or helping the baby press on her bladder, and his hand was on her _excruciatingly_ tender breast. Good to know that he was still as forthcoming with his affection as ever.

"Arthur, get up," she commanded as she nudged at him.

He hummed and curled up closer to her, tightening his grip on her breast. "Ow, you clotpole, that hurts!" she hissed.

Lazily, he opened one eye. "What?" he asked her groggily.

"Get your hand off of my breast."

"Huh?"

"Arthur Pendragon, have you genuinely forgotten how sore my breasts get whilst pregnant?" she grumbled as she gripped his wrist and threw his hand off of her.

Grumbling, she shimmied out of bed and away from him, anxious to relieve herself. "What's gotten into you?" Arthur called from the bed.

"You," she muttered under her breath. "You got in me…"

"Sorry?"

"Hormones," she called out, knowing full well she was lying.

She emerged from behind the screen and folded her arms across her (tender) chest. "You need to get up."

Arthur flung his arm over his head and groaned again as he rolled over to look at her. "Why?" he whined.

"Well, you have a kingdom to run, and I need to get dressed."

"I've seen you naked before."

"Arthur…"

He sat up and Merlin thought for a moment that he was going to acquiesce to her demands. But when a sly grin slowly bloomed on his face, she knew that that was not happening. "Oh brother," she sighed as she moved her left hand down to her hip.

"You know, I've never seen you naked while you are pregnant. After doing this almost four times, I've never seen that."

"Your point?" she asked him.

"What do you look like?

"You've seen me naked, Arthur. Now, just imagine that I have a distended belly and everything is just… a bit squishier."

"A bit squishier?" he echoed, clearly amused by the imagery.

"Yes. Considerably squishier."

"Prove it," he commanded with a wink.

She scoffed. "Not a chance," Merlin replied.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"No, not at all. But the fact that you are so fixated on this means that I shouldn't reinforce the behavior by giving you what you want."

"What?"

"I'm not going to reward unsightly behavior."

"You're afraid."

Merlin rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Arthur."

"This isn't over," he assured her as he rolled off the bed and brushed past her.

"I have no doubt," she crooned jokingly.

Once she was certain the door was closed and locked behind him, she threw off her shift and filled the tub with warm water. She settled into the tub and glanced down at her small bump. "Your father is absolutely mental; never forget that, little one."


	24. Chapter 24

On the anniversary of their marriage, Arthur thought it would be nice to bring Merlin her breakfast, as she had done for him virtually every day of their time together, save for the days in which she was not his manservant, their wedding day, and the weeks that she was far too far gone in her pregnancies to sit up on her own, let alone climb flights of stairs, maneuvering a tray of food around. But never had he done the same for her.

And of course, she wasn't in the room. Thirteen years of marriage, and here she was, doing the same thing she had done on their wedding day. Coincidentally enough, it was raining that day, as it had thirteen years before.

He couldn't find her anywhere in the castle, so he rode out of the city and found her in the field below the training fields. She was drenched; her thin shift clinging to her and leaving very little to the imagination. Arthur dreaded what his men might say if they saw her in this state. Hopefully, simply because she was the queen, they would hold their tongue and be gentlemen. They were gentlemen, but not always.

"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted across the glen.

Merlin stood, looking mystified as ever, at a loss for words. He thought that she might have been attacked, so he galloped across the field to her. "What happened?" he asked her, his tone less stern.

"The dragon," she murmured.

"What dragon?"

"Kilgharrah, the dragon."

"Merlin, I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur explained.

She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "Kilgharrah, the dragon that Uther had in captivity for all those years. I freed him a long time ago, but he's come back."

Arthur had known about the dragon, but he hadn't known the name of the dragon. "Why?" Arthur demanded, trying not to sound fearful or furious, despite the fact that he was both.

"I'm a Dragon Lord… the last of them. I thought you knew that."

"You're a what?" he asked, sliding off of the horse and marching over to her. "Aren't you freezing?"

"Not really. I've gone sort of numb."

"Oh for goodness' sake!" Arthur muttered as he wrapped his cloak around her. "Why do you insist on doing these things?"

"He called for me. And when he calls, he usually has a good reason."

"Was this time for a good reason?"

"I think so."

He paused, looking at her intently, as if he were willing her to respond. When she didn't, he sighed. "What was the reason?"

"The baby."

"What about the baby?"

"He says that the baby is the next Dragon Lord."

"Oh."

"Right, so, that's something. It passes from one generation to the next. I always assumed it would have been Rhys who would inherit it, but for whatever reason, it's this one."

"And… Kil… what's his name?"

"Kilgharrah."

"And Kilgharrah believes that it's this one?"

"He knows it to be true. He says that there is a connection. Of course, the connection won't be completely solidified until after I've passed away, but as he or she gets older, it will intensify as I train them for the job."

Arthur glanced down from Merlin's eyes to her belly. "So… that," he began as he tentatively reached out and brushed his fingers against the wet cloth, "is someone important?"

"They would be important regardless of their status, Arthur. As your child…."

"I know that," he interrupted. "I mean… the baby is more important than we were anticipating?"

"It would seem so."

"So, does this mean that the baby will also have magic?"

She swallowed hard and averted her eyes for a moment. "It's quite possible. It doesn't seem likely that a Dragon Lord wouldn't have magic, or at least some skill with it. But to what degree he or she will have magic is still unknown."

He processed this before finally nodding slowly. "Well, with that knowledge, I guess the next question is why Kilgharrah wanted to meet you in this weather. Did he not think of what state you might be in?"

"Dragons don't work in the same way that humans do, Arthur," Merlin hummed as a knowing smile crossed her face. "Considerably different priorities."

"Right. So, now, let's make it our priority to get inside."

"I couldn't agree more," Merlin chirped as she wrapped herself tighter in the cloak and headed towards the castle.

"Shouldn't we ride?"

"I think you just want to see me try and get up on a horse while pregnant," Merlin accused him with a sly wink.

"Well, I'm always in the mood for something to tease you with, so of course!" Arthur laughed.

He led the horse by the reins, surprised that the horse hadn't run off while he had left it untethered, and joined Merlin in the walk up the hill, back to the warmth of the castle.

Maybe their breakfast would still be enjoyable.


	25. Chapter 25

There was something different about this pregnancy. Merlin knew that it was probably because she was carrying the future Dragon Lord, but there was something more to it.

It was Arthur too. It was as if he knew something she didn't, and it was pressing down on her. He treated everything about this pregnancy as if it were the most miraculous thing to have happened to their world. He wasn't like this with Rhys, and quite honestly, Rhys was probably the most important person, aside from Arthur, in the whole of Camelot. It would all fall to Rhys when Arthur passed away, and it would become Rhys' job to keep the Pendragon name alive.

So why Arthur was so fixated on the unborn one was mystifying to Merlin.

But, she had to admit, his fascination was actually quite endearing.

Even though he had his own chambers, he had taken to sleeping with Merlin, and depending on who had nightmares, at least one of the boys on occasion. But more often than not, it was just Merlin and Arthur in bed. And as her pregnancy progressed, the more often she was in the room, sleeping. She would usually go to sleep knowing Arthur was nearby and would wake up and know that he was in his study. There were a few occasions where he would still be there when she woke, watching diligently.

The day that he discovered that the baby would react to his voice ended up being the end of any hope of Merlin having some silence before the baby came. Arthur would be at Merlin's side every chance he got, chattering on about some inane topic to the baby. It usually bored Merlin to sleep, so that was useful, but she didn't quite see the appeal. She understood the importance for Arthur to bond with the baby, but she was tired and his chattering distracted her from sleeping.

Thank goodness for Hunith and Gwen. Even though Gwen had her own son to run after, she was still a saint with helping out with the three princes. Hunith knew a thing or two about children, especially after years of helping out the other mothers in Ealdor, so her expertise was greatly appreciated. Merlin looked forward to being able to be a completely active parent again, able to run after her boys and keep them in line. She felt a little guilty that Gwen and Hunith had to do most of the work, especially since Arthur was virtually helpless when it came to discipline.

As a father, Arthur had one saving grace: he was diligent about training his knights, and that diligence spilled over in the training of his sons. He saw potential in each of his boys and made sure to use that to the benefit of the Knights of Camelot. He expected his sons to adhere to the strict code of the knights on the field, and as they became more and more acquainted with these manners, the expectation followed them off of the field.

But beyond that, Arthur was hopeless. If he couldn't find a training situation analogous to a non-training issue, he was rather weak. Despite the fact that Rhys was twelve, Arthur still hadn't figured out how to not relegate to Merlin for the default-parenting standard. Merlin supposed that it was a sign of good parenting that Arthur looked to her for the answers, but because it demonstrated the huge gap in their communication and united front, she took it to mean that they needed to work on this area of their relationship.

They could save the whole of Albion without a shadow of a doubt that the other stood behind them, but they couldn't agree how to reprimand their sons. The irony nearly killed Merlin.

But she was really looking forward to getting readjusted to her semi-familiar life. She suspected that their routine wouldn't be too terribly different; what was one more kid? It'd just be another set of feet running away from Merlin at every open opportunity. Another kid to lose to the wilderness surrounding Camelot. Another indication that the throne of Camelot was occupied by a strong and viable leader who had a good head on his shoulders.

Privately, that strong and viable leader who supposedly had a good head on his shoulders had taken to trying to catch Merlin while she was naked. He hadn't backed down on his promise to catch her in the nude, and the closer she got to delivery, the more fervent his efforts became. He had taken to deliberately walking in on her when he knew that she was about to take a bath (she really enjoyed her baths) or while she was dressing.

Of course, she knew that he was joking around and he managed to keep it relatively decent. (As decent as being a perverted man with an obsession with catching his wife in compromising situations could be.) He respected Merlin's right to privacy and shortly after starting his quest, it became a game for both of them.

So of course, she wasn't expecting it when she lost in a very stupid way.

It was after Arthur and his men had returned from a trek into the outskirts of the kingdom, as a means of doing a wellbeing check-up for his people. They had been gone for two weeks, long enough for Merlin to let her guard down, but not long enough for Arthur to forget the name of the game.

The group had returned late in the afternoon, just before supper, but instead of feasting with the men down in the banquet hall, Arthur had requested to take his meal in his chambers. Merlin had elected to join him, despite the fact that she had already had supper with Rhys, Bowen, and Gareth. Once she knew that Arthur was in his chambers eating, she quietly let herself into the room and sat down. "Anything notable to recount?" she asked him simply as she reached over and snagged a grape from his plate.

He eyed her warily before taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. After swallowing, he nodded. "Lots of babies in most of the villages we visited. It seems like it's a common theme around here," he explained.

She hummed in interest and reached over to snag another grape or two. The rest of his meal was quiet until he stood up and kicked off his boots in the corner. "Are you sleeping in here tonight?" he asked.

Merlin glanced at him. "When was the last time you bathed?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You aren't serious."

"You smell musty."

"I smell like the woods. That's the smell of nature, Merlin."

"Unless you were walking through manure woods, that's not the smell of nature, Arthur."

He sighed and turned away from her before pulling his tunic over his head and tossing it over a chair. "I forgot that you always seem to acquire an acute sense of smell while pregnant."

"Yes, I do," she agreed as she drummed her fingers across the top of her belly.

After helping him with the tub, Merlin left Arthur to his own devices while she left the room to go change. She wasn't expecting Arthur to enter her chambers. The only indication she had that someone was in there was the snickering from the doorway. "Well, would you look at that: not only have I succeeded in seeing you naked whilst pregnant, but I have also found that pair of trousers you _swore_ you hadn't seen."

She let out a squeak and tried to cover up for modesty. Arthur shook his head and walked towards her. "Seriously; those are my favorite pair of trousers."

"Funnily enough, they're my favorite pair of trousers too!"

"Why do you have them?"

"None of mine fit."

"So you stole mine? Don't you have an entire wardrobe designated for when you're pregnant?"

"Oh, I do, but they're all very uncomfortable."

She stepped out of the trousers and handed them over to Arthur. "I'm relinquishing control of the trousers," she announced solemnly.

"Thank you."

She turned her back to him and pulled her shift down from over the room divider. The garment was almost over her belly when Arthur stopped her. "May I?" he asked her.

Merlin shrugged and held the hem of her shift above her belly button. She was as good as defeated, and there was nothing wrong with letting him explore a little bit. It was doubtful they'd ever get to do this again.

"You know, I don't think I'm a fan of those dresses and skirts you wear," Arthur finally remarked.

"I've been telling you… dresses and skirts are rubbish!"

"No, it's not that," he muttered dismissively. "It's more than that… you could display this more prominently, but you don't. You never have. It's almost as if you're self conscious about this."

"You go around lugging this everywhere you go."

She braced her belly with her left hand and gave a gentle jerk, indicating what she was talking about. Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically and chuckled.

"You make it seem like you're dragging a cart or something."

"For all I know, I could be. It certainly feels like it sometimes."

"But it's nice. I like it."

"You do?" she asked softly.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my wife, you're my naked wife, and you have a spotting of freckles that remind me a little of the Big Dipper."

"All I need now is the Pendragon crest branded into me, and you're sold!" Merlin laughed.

"No, that's barbaric," Arthur hummed absently as he rested his hands along the back of her pelvis. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Being pregnant. It looks like it hurts."

"Sometimes it hurts. Backaches and headaches and my feet are sore almost all the time these days. But all that happened while I was still your manservant."

Arthur stood back and helped pull the hem down the rest of Merlin's body. "Thank you. You handled defeat well."

Merlin rolled her eyes and padded over to the bed. She pulled back the covers and as gracefully as possible, climbed into the bed. Arthur followed her lead and almost instantaneously fell asleep, with his arm curled around her and his long body stretched out against hers. But before he did, he stared at Merlin with a solemn look.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"Your belly button looks weird," he explained.

"Go to sleep, Arthur," Merlin sighed as she blew out the candle on the table next to the bed.

Before falling asleep herself, Merlin decided that this wasn't necessarily a bad game to lose. She just had to convince Arthur that she was devastated about the defeat.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: So, I realized, just as I went to publish this chapter, that I haven't actually finished Chapter 27- onward. Which means that I'm either going to have to neglect my pressing academic obligations to pound out a mediocre chapter, or it's going to be a little while longer before the next chapter is posted.

Sorry guys... college is a lot of work. Enjoy this chapter, and I hope to have the next up within the coming few days!

* * *

It had been a cool summer, so when Camelot celebrated the autumn festival, it didn't seem like it was time for that. But, there had been the customary feasting and tournaments held at Camelot. Much to her chagrin, the heavily pregnant Merlin seemed to be the main attraction though. And with the excitement of a new life, it wasn't that hard to see why.

Arthur took pity on his very uncomfortable wife and tried keeping her away from the masses as much as possible. Merlin appreciated this, and for once, actually listened to him instead of acting on her own accord. Maybe she had finally figured out that Arthur wasn't always an idiot. (Or maybe she was just appeasing Arthur, knowing what he wasn't able to openly admit: he was usually an idiot.)

The quill was still writing on its own, still a valued consultant to Arthur, but he could tell based on how slow and sluggish the quill was becoming as the days passed, that the child's arrival was imminent. Sure enough, three days after the beginning of the festivities for the autumn equinox, Arthur received word that Merlin had gone into labor.

The tournament and feast hadn't been cancelled, but everyone was preoccupied, waiting for the arrival of the newest royal. Arthur knew that if Merlin were aware of how much people were paying attention to her, she would have been mortified, but he doubted that she was concerned about that; she was probably deep in the throes of childbirth.

So, after one of his advisors left his study, he glanced down at the quill and whispered, "Be good to your mother. Please be kind and merciful."

The quill rolled over, trying to raise itself up. Eventually, Arthur picked it up and helped guide the letters onto the page.

_Of course, Father_.

Hours later, Arthur cradled his daughter, still overcoming his tears of joy. He had never felt as connected or as honored to be in the presence of one of his newborn children, but here she was, his daughter, the Princess of Camelot, perhaps the most precious thing he had ever come into possession with. And she was lovely; her dark hair stuck up wildly, not all that different to Merlin's hair when she had had it short when they first met, and she had the same crisp blue eyes that he had come to know so intimately.

She was lovely. And tiny. She was lovely and tiny, perhaps even a bit extraordinary too. Merlin had outdone herself with this one.

Merlin had almost done herself in too with this one, but fortunately, she was sleeping now and would just need to rest. The delivery had been rather long and difficult, leaving everyone in the castle on edge, but as soon as it was announced that the queen had given birth to the newest member of the royal family and both were alive and well, the celebration began.

Arthur, who had still been working in his chambers at the stately desk that his father had used, had known that the fourth child had arrived when his quill suddenly went lifeless. It had terrified Arthur at first, who had feared that the child had died, but when he heard a knock at the door a few minutes later, his fears subsided. He had sprinted from his chambers down to Merlin's, bursting through the door to find his exhausted wife cradling the impossibly small bundle. For whatever reason, this time, it seemed like the baby was fragile and Merlin actually seemed like the delivery had taken something out of her.

"Hi," he had said softly upon entering the door with a loud crash.

The servants and delivery assistants had all stood at attention, staring at him after he had made such an abrupt entrance. Merlin, who also had been startled by his entry, laughed at him as he approached the bed. "I think we know where she got her ability to enter a room," Merlin mused.

"She?" Arthur asked, stiffening.

She? Well, that was unexpected. Arthur had thought that the first three children were daughters, and yet again, he was wrong. Merlin smirked. "Hopefully she doesn't get your estimation abilities."

"Oh, come off it," Arthur groaned as he sat down next to Merlin in the bed, kicking off his shoes and moving up so that he was resting against the headboard. "I'm still smarter than you."

"Oh, okay."

She grinned widely and rested her head on his shoulder, still holding their daughter, who appeared to be quite bored of her parents already. "We haven't talked about names for a girl," Arthur pointed out.

Merlin hummed and brushed the baby's hair off her forehead. "No, I suppose we haven't. Since I got to name Rhys, and we named both Gareth and Bowen together, how about you name her?"

"Are you sure about that?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"Of course, I'll have final veto power, but right now, I'm so tired, I would probably name her Excalibur or something. Ooh, what about Excalibur?" Merlin laughed.

"Go to sleep, Merlin."

She chucked as she leaned against Arthur, admiring her daughter's features. Arthur couldn't help but admire Merlin. After all that she had done, and here she had gone and done something miraculous again. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't know why he loved her, and this day was no different. Today was akin to the day that Rhys was born; an entirely unknown journey lay before them, though today brought not their first child, but their first daughter. Arthur knew that this would be their last child, but he wasn't worried about that.

He was complete. They were complete.

Before Merlin fell asleep, he took the infant from her arms and helped Merlin get settled against the pillows. "I won't go far," he assured his wife. "In case, you know… she needs feeding or something."

Merlin nodded sleepily and let out a contented sigh before closing her eyes. Here they went again.


	27. Chapter 27

Merlin woke with a start, very disoriented and with the distinct feeling of emptiness. She moved violently to figure out what was amiss about her situation, but winced from the strong movement. She remembered delivering the baby, and she remembered that Arthur had taken said baby from her so she could get some sleep.

She wondered how long she had been sleeping, but was soon interrupted by Arthur, who walked into the room, cradling the tiny little bundle close to his chest. She didn't know where he had gone, but she was relieved to see both father and daughter relatively intact.

Except for one thing.

"Why is your hair blue?" Merlin asked when Arthur padded into the room with the baby.

"What?"

"Your hair… why is it blue?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your hair. It is blue. How did it change colors?"

"Merlin, you must be mistaken. My hair…"

He faltered as he caught sight of himself in a looking glass. "Oh my… why is my hair blue?"

Arthur, alarmed, turned back to Merlin with a look of horror on his face. "Merlin, what did you do?" he exclaimed.

"What makes you think I've done something?" she asked him, accusingly, trying not to laugh at the state of his distress and the fact that his hair was blue.

"How else would my hair have changed blue?" he exclaimed.

His exclamation startled the baby, who moved in his arms. Her parents held their breath, hoping that she wouldn't start crying. They were relieved when she only yawned and snuggled down into the blanket she was wrapped in. But Merlin's relief was short-lived. "Oh…" she said quietly.

"What?" Arthur asked her.

"It's the baby."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she's the one who is changing the color of your hair. When she yawned, it turned red."

Merlin was concerned about something like this happening. None of the boys had shown magic, and despite the fact that she knew that her daughter was the future Dragon Lord (Dragon Lady), she had really hoped that the baby wouldn't show magic to this degree. It was a dangerous thing, having a child who demonstrated magical capacity so soon after birth. Thank goodness Hunith was still around and able to help Merlin and Arthur with their undoubtedly troublesome bundle of joy.

Arthur, on the other hand, seemed rather impressed by his daughter's abilities. "So, does this mean that she has magic?" he asked quietly.

Merlin was reluctant to nod, but when she did, a huge smile broke out on Arthur's face. "Well, I'm sure she won't have any issue with the boys then. A distinct advantage over them, I think," Arthur remarked.

She had known that Arthur had warmed to the idea of magic, but to accept it so openly was rather unexpected. "So… wait… I'm confused. I'm exhausted and that certainly has an effect on my ability to think, but I'm not sure if I understand. Is this a good thing?"

"Of course!" Arthur said a bit too loudly, causing the baby to open her eyes again.

When she burst into tears, Arthur's hair turned a lovely shade of orange. As her squalls intensified, the shade began to morph until eventually, she calmed down, and his hair returned to its natural color, save for the very small patch of hair that remained blue. "Is it the same color?" he asked.

Merlin shook her head. "It's back to its natural color."

She knew full well that there was still a blue patch, but decided not to tell him about that. Besides, if he noticed it later and accused her of lying to him, she could always remind him of the sacrifice she had made for him by giving him children. She had never claimed that the children weren't useful.

"Have you thought of a name?" Merlin asked upon realizing she honestly had no idea what she could call her daughter other than 'Baby'.

He hemmed and hawed for a moment before he finally looked over at Merlin with an expression of determination. "Meredith."

"Meredith?" Merlin echoed.

"Meredith. Her Royal Highness, Princess Meredith Pendragon, Dragon Lord."

"Not even a few hours old, and already she has a more impressive title than I have by marrying you," Merlin laughed.

"I think Queen of Camelot has a nice ring to it. Besides, you're a Dragon Lord too."

"Right, but I haven't had that pinned to my title."

"I'll have the record keeper remedy that."

"Okay, you do that," Merlin hummed before she felt her eyes become dangerously heavy and she drifted back to sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

Arthur hadn't been around many girls in his life that he was related to. Of course, there had been Morgana, but he never really saw her as his sister, but beyond that, there were none. He had Merlin, but she was his wife and related to him only by a marriage contract, and then his mother, but she obviously hadn't been around much. So, that left Meredith.

And Meredith was quite something.

She hardly ever cried (something that Merlin fretted about, claiming that it was abnormal for a baby not to cry, according to Hunith), but was extremely attentive. Arthur lamented that Meredith wouldn't be the reigning monarch because he knew that her early signs of acuity would make her a keen queen. And at the rate she was going, she would likely inherit Merlin's appearance, which would make it (as horrible as the thought struck him as he held his two and a half week old daughter) relatively easy to marry her off. Powerful alliances could be made with the marriage of his daughter. But he did not want to think about that. It was painful to think of ever letting someone else take Meredith away from his sight, let alone away from Camelot.

Arthur thought that maybe Meredith remembered him from when her soul was still in the quill. He wasn't sure why; all she would really do was stare at him blankly (when she wasn't asleep) and occasionally sneeze, which would sometimes cause some slight change in the room. But other than that, there were absolutely no indications that Meredith remembered him from before she was born. But he didn't really care. He was convinced that she did.

Merlin had found some spells that would help control Meredith's magic until she was old enough to control it better. Of course, not all spells are entirely reliable, but Merlin was still concerned that Meredith wouldn't be able to use her magic when she was older, so she had found a way to allow Meredith to use her magic (and by use, let it spill out in manageable intervals so that she wouldn't kill someone or invoke utter devastation upon the land.

So, she would yawn or sneeze and sometimes it would have an effect greater than what was expected. The hair color-changing incident had happened a few times more (Gareth had been horrified to find that his hair had changed purple with bright green stripes after Meredith had had a rough night a few days after her birth), but nothing that wasn't easily reversed by Merlin.

Merlin found herself looking at magic differently. Simply by having a child with magic, she found the nature of magic to be vastly different than she had found it to be prior to Meredith's birth. There were so many threats, despite the fact that magic was now legal, but a princess who possessed magic was certainly more valuable than simply a princess or a sorceress. Rhys was fortunate to not have been born with magic, because there really was no telling what would become of Meredith as she got older.

Merlin was certain that Meredith possessed a considerable amount of magic, but knew that her daughter had not inherited the same power that Merlin possessed. Being a Dragon Lord would give Meredith a considerable advantage when faced with powerful adversaries, but unfortunately, as long as Merlin lived, Meredith would not wield the full power that she would eventually have. Kilgharrah already acknowledged the little girl as strong a sorceress as her mother, but assured Merlin that he was only basing his appraisal on what he had seen Merlin do. Merlin didn't need to be told that Kilgharrah thought that she wasn't living up to her potential, because he had been telling her that since they day they had met. She was relieved to know that her daughter wouldn't be burdened with the same crippling power that Merlin faced every day of her life.

The three boys adjusted to their new sister fairly well, save for Gareth's hair incident. Rhys, as the eldest of the four, decided that Meredith would start her training as soon as possible, knowing that she could easily best their greatest foe if she utilized her magic properly. He had seen his mother do this time after time, and knowing that his sister shared his mother's magic, there was absolutely no reason why Meredith couldn't be like Merlin.

But as Meredith got older, it became more and more obvious that it would take quite a lot of effort to get the little girl away from books and out on the training field.


	29. Chapter 29

"But Daddy… swords hurt people!"

Merlin busied herself with making sure the boys had their armor on properly, knowing that if she didn't, she would be in tears from laughing. Meredith, at age five, was perhaps the most stubborn and precocious child in all of Camelot. Merlin couldn't _possibly_ figure out where she would have gotten that trait.

Nevertheless, Meredith was growing nicely. At age five, she had already surpassed Gareth in reading and writing (something he did not take kindly to) and was showing signs of becoming better equipped to handle her magic. Both Merlin and Arthur were attentive to Meredith's abilities and when she started to demonstrate control over her magic, Merlin decided it was time to start her formal training.

The three older boys were beginning to come into their own as well. Rhys, nearing age seventeen, was a strong knight and future leader. Arthur was pleased that his eldest son was demonstrating great capacity with leadership and he had begun to consider what Camelot would look like once he and Merlin were gone. Bowen, the middle son, at age fourteen, had proven to be just as effective and talented as Rhys in his combative skills, but was much better at diplomacy as Rhys was. Arthur couldn't explain how Rhys wasn't as adept in this area as Bowen, but figured that Rhys would recognize Bowen's strengths and utilize his younger brother when the time came to ascend the throne. As for Gareth, age twelve, but had come to study maps extensively. Arthur suspected that Gareth would serve as an excellent navigator for Camelot.

Each of the sons had their own capacities and strengths that gave Arthur security for the coming years. He hoped that the three sons would come together and help lead Camelot as a unit, using what they excelled at to benefit their subjects. Of course, Rhys would still be the primary leader, but a leader was only as strong as his advisors and his kingdom, and Arthur was confident that Rhys had strong advisors and a strong kingdom at his disposal.

Arthur enjoyed watching his children grow up. He hadn't expected their childhoods to go by so fast; on the eve of Rhys' eighteenth birthday, he sat in his study, silently contemplating the last eighteen years of his life. When Merlin walked into the room and found her despondent husband, she sat down across the large desk from him and smiled sadly at him. "Don't worry; we still have time for the other three. It's not done for us," she assured him.

Arthur laughed and reached over and grabbed his wife's hand. "He has taken nicely to Ilia, no?"

Ilia, the young duchess whom Arthur hoped to arrange a marriage with, had arrived in Camelot two weeks previous. Rhys had been wary of Ilia, but had gradually warmed to her and she to him. It was hopeful that they would become betrothed and wed within the year.

Merlin nodded quietly as she fiddled with his fingers that were laced around hers. "You seem upset."

"Not upset, just a bit shaken."

"By what?"

"Rhys is almost eighteen."

"Yes…?"

"Where did the time go?"

She laughed gently. "I don't think we can ever really know where time goes. It just goes. But, we do have three others, you know."

"I know."

"Aww… it's sweet that you are nervous for him."

"Merlin, he'll be married and hopefully having his own children soon."

"Yes, I know that, Arthur. They'll all be married and having their own children at some point. That's just something we need to be aware of."

It was at that moment that Arthur knew how he would handle his son's potential betrothal. "Merlin, I think I need to tell you something. It's going to be mad, but you will just have to bear in mind with me."

She looked at him with a confused expression, but made no indication that she wasn't open to the idea of hearing what her husband had to say.

When Rhys asked for Ilia's hand in marriage a few days later, and subsequently, married her another few days after, Arthur pulled Rhys aside and presented him with a long, skinny package wrapped in simple cloth. "I would like to present you with a wedding gift," Arthur explained as he handed Rhys the package.

Rhys, who was sitting in his father's study, examined the package with keen interest before gingerly unwrapping the item. Once he saw what was in the cloth, he looked up at Arthur. "But Father, this is a broom."

"Your soul was once in that broom."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your soul was in the broom, through some sort of magic. You, in your broom form, made sure that you were conceived."

Rhys laughed and examined the broom. "I'm not sure if Ilia will have much use for this."

"It's not for Ilia. It is yours."

"I don't anticipate having much use for it either."

"It's not meant to be used, Rhys. It's a symbolic gesture. It's you, in two forms. It moved independently of anyone helping, and if you had not been in the broom at one point, you would not be in this form."

Merlin had warned Arthur that Rhys would have thought his father was off his rocker. But Arthur couldn't care less. Someday, he hoped that his children would understand the gifts he hoped to present to each of them as they came of age and married their respective spouses.

Rhys stood and gave his father a strong hug. "I must admit, I don't understand your gift, and I'm sure Mum will probably agree with me in saying that you've probably gone mental, but thank you. Maybe Ilia will be able to explain things better to me."

Arthur laughed. "Your mother won't probably agree with you; she's been trying to convince the entire world that I'm mental for years now."

Rhys chuckled before he left his father's study, broom in hand.

As wistful as Arthur found the sight, he was proud that the broom hadn't turned out to be as much trouble as he had originally believed all those years before. The broom had proven to be a worthy future leader of Camelot.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Two posts in one day? Wow. What a concept!

I apologize for my timing with these two chapters. Things have gotten quite hectic around here, and now I have a bit of time to breathe. Thank you again for all the follows and reviews and favorites, and well, for reading! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

When it came time for Bowen to wed, Arthur was prepared to present his middle son with the shield that he had long retired. A nasty injury to his arm had caused Merlin to threaten Arthur with death if he tried going back out to tournaments, and thus, drove Arthur into retirement from jousting. Of course, Arthur still had the shield in the rare occasion that he would have to fight to defend Camelot, but it had been quite some time since that had last happened, so Arthur was not terribly upset about relinquishing control over his shield.

It was time to pass along Bowen's artifact.

Bowen accepted the shield with less doubt than his elder brother, and seemed to have a better grasp on the circumstances surrounding the importance of the shield. He had grown up hearing stories of the famed shield and had always assumed that Rhys would inherit the item. When it was revealed that Bowen would be receiving the shield, Bowen was humbled by the gesture and assured his father that the shield would remain in excellent condition. Rhys had felt a bit jilted by the fact that his younger brother received the famed shield, but quickly got over himself.

At least it wasn't Gareth's gift.

When presented with a pair of worn boots, Gareth stared blankly at his father. "Father… I understand the symbolic nature of a pair of boots, but don't you suppose you could have a better use for them than I?"

Arthur shook his head and gestured to Gareth to take the boots. "May you make great use of them in all the journeys you may embark upon," Arthur remarked.

After Gareth left his father's study to go spend time with his new wife, Merlin stepped out from the shadows. Arthur threw her a despondent glance and sighed. "I see his point about a pair of worn boots, but why doesn't he… why don't he and Rhys really, see the greater picture? Their souls lived in their gifts!"

She stepped around the stately desk and leaned against it. "I think it's more for your benefit, if anything," she answered quietly before she ran her fingers through his hair. "Besides, they're young and haven't seen the world as you have. Of course they aren't going to see the value of your gifts right now. But I assure you, they will one day, and they will appreciate everything that you and I have laid forth for them."

"Hopefully," Arthur agreed as he brought Merlin's hand to his lips.

When it came time for Meredith to be married, Arthur fretted over the decision. Meredith, as he had anticipated when she was only a newborn, drew quite a lot of suitors to Camelot. Her marriage would prove most useful in political matters, but every time Arthur went about trying to figure out the best way of sending his daughter, he found himself at a loss.

Of course, Meredith didn't help matters. She seemed to be every bit Merlin as she was every bit Arthur and had decided at some point along the way that she was going to be difficult in the process of marrying her off. Many suitors did not take nicely to the princess turning their hair some unsightly color when they made an unwarranted advance, or when their horses mysteriously disappeared from Camelot.

On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she marched into Arthur's study and stood confidently in the center of the room. "All right then, I suppose this is how it goes: I'm now eighteen years of age, and I guess it's my turn."

Arthur glanced up from one of the dozen documents declaring a desire to form a union with the marriage of Meredith and one of the nameless suitors. "I'm sorry?"

"They all received some sort of token on their eighteenth birthday. Well, rather, when they married, but since I'm not doing that, my eighteenth birthday will suffice."

He furrowed his brow and stood up. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Meredith sighed and jutted one hip out to the side as she planted her fists on her hips. Her short, messy, dark brown hair stuck up and out in almost every direction, and Arthur wondered how on earth he was ever going to get her to settle down, or at the very least, not scare people off. She was every bit Merlin, except for the eyes. She had his eyes. But she was still a mini-Merlin. Right down to the magic and the ability to talk to dragons. Meredith was quite skilled with talking to dragons; unfortunately, this didn't seem to be a catching point for many of the suitors who stuck around long enough to discover this fact.

Finally, Arthur sighed and gestured for Meredith to sit down on one of the handsomely carved chairs in the corner of the room. "Meredith, I need to ask you something," Arthur informed her as he walked around to the drawers of the desk and went pawing through them to find what he was looking for.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to scare off every poor man who comes marching through with the intention of marrying you?"

She thought for a moment. "Probably."

"What if you chose? What if I left the decision entirely up to you, and would support what you chose, regardless of political ties?"

"I don't wish to marry."

"Why is that?"

"Have you met your kind? You're all the same: quaint, violent, and quite honestly, a bit stupid."

Arthur couldn't help but think of how proud Merlin would be to hear her daughter say such a thing. He figured that Meredith had probably heard such a thing from her mother at least a thousand times in her childhood, so that was likely where Meredith came to believe that.

"Meredith, obviously, I wish for you to be happy, and if marriage is simply not for you, I will respect that. Your brothers will respect that, but they may not respect that to the same degree as your mother or me, but they will respect it. However, I also wish for you to be safe, and other than sending you off to a nunnery, where who knows how they will feel about your magic, marriage is the best guarantee I have that you will be safe."

Meredith sat quietly, processing what her father had said. "I know I will eventually marry. I just have no desire to marry this early in my life. But I will keep an open mind and I will only scare off the ones that I know won't be able to handle Camelot. Sound good?" she asked hopefully.

Arthur smiled and continued looking through his desk for her token. He supposed it was best to give it to her now, before it was too late.

"It's a quill, isn't it?" Meredith asked suddenly.

He glanced up from his search and blinked. Only Merlin knew what Meredith's token was, and he had sworn Merlin to secrecy. "Erm… yes."

"Oh, good. I thought I was dreaming that. For some reason, I've always felt some sort of connection to the quill in the top left drawer of your desk… the one toward the back of the drawer, I believe," she chirped.

Arthur surreptitiously moved his search to the other side of the desk and found the exact quill that Meredith was describing. It was her quill. A part of him was alarmed by her acuity, but because she was the only one who possessed magic, he supposed that this was normal and expected. "Have you always known about the quill?" he asked her.

"Not always, but I think I've known for a while. Why?"

"Your brothers didn't seem to understand the meaning behind their tokens."

"Well, that's because men are a bit dim," Meredith replied lightly.

Arthur rolled his eyes and she giggled. "Mum thinks it's the magic. She also seems to think that I might have caused it."

"It's entirely possible, but it might also be fate at work, ensuring a particular destiny unfolded."

Arthur handed his daughter a narrow box in which he had stored the quill since her birth. He hadn't wanted to use the quill after it had gone lifeless, but had kept it for sentimentality's sake. It was a nice quill, and he knew that Meredith would make ample use of the item. She, more than any of the other children, seemed to truly embody her token.

"Thank you, Father. I will use it wisely," she assured Arthur before she hugged him tightly.

Even though she was nearly as tall as he was, she would still always be that tiny baby that he had cradled in his arms as she changed the color of his hair. It had been a while since she had turned anyone's hair a different color, but Arthur knew that whoever Meredith married would have their hands full. He said a prayer for the poor untold soul, but knew that she would be able to choose her partner effectively.

His predictions were confirmed a few months later, when Meredith accepted the request of a young duke from a proximal kingdom. Everyone had expected the poor man to collapse from the pressure of dealing with Meredith, but was pleasantly surprised when he was able to keep up. Another surprise was the fact that he too possessed magic. Apparently, Arthur had been choosing suitors incorrectly, because none of the previous men had possessed magic.

Within days of the engagement, Camelot was all atwitter with the festivities of the marriage of Princess Meredith and her husband, Duncan. There were several feasts and a tournament to celebrate. By the end of the week, everyone was exhausted, especially Arthur. Before the last feast, he retreated to a quiet corner on the outskirts of the castle. It was a spot that he had been retreating to since he was a small boy because it was a covered spot that overlooked a vast expanse of Camelot. (Of course, Merlin had found the spot within two days of beginning her tenure as Arthur's manservant.)

Upon finding that Arthur was sneaking away from the festivities, Merlin had followed Arthur to join him out on the overlook. "You get quieter and quieter the longer I know you. Have you run out of things to tell me?" she joked.

He turned to her and grinned. "Hardly."

"Oh good," she replied as she bumped against him gently. "But your silence is a bit unnerving. I'd prefer it if you were to yammer on endlessly."

Arthur chuckled and wrapped his arm around her. "They're all married. Can you imagine that?"

"Good work," she agreed.

A comfortable silence fell between them, only to be broken by Arthur. "You know, I think I would love you even if you weren't female. Of course, you being female has made things considerably easier," he murmured.

Merlin turned to look at him. "Really? Even if I were simply your manservant, truly a man, you'd love me?"

"Of course. And even if you didn't have magic, I'd love you too."

She hummed contentedly before drawing in a deep breath. Merlin sighed contentedly. "So, how soon do you expect Meredith will have little ones running around, raising hell with magic?" Merlin asked.

"Wait… I say something deeply romantic and meaningful, and you want to make idle gossip about grandchildren?" Arthur squawked.

"What do you mean?"

"I've just told you that I love you unconditionally."

"Yes… I know that. That's why I married you."

"Merlin…"

"Arthur, I'm serious. I married you because I knew that you loved me unconditionally, and would always love me unconditionally. I knew that even before you knew I had magic and was female. That knowledge was solidified further after I told you about my magic and you found out that I wasn't a man."

"Well, why couldn't you be a bit more romantic about it?"

"What would you like me to say? That I'd still love you if you weren't a prince or a prat?" she laughed.

He thought for a moment. "Yes."

"I'd love you even if you weren't a simpleton," she joked before she shied away from him and his appalled reaction.

"That's a relief."

"Isn't it?"

They sat quietly, watching the sky darken and the emergence of the stars that dotted the sky. There was nothing more either of them could ask for or needed in that moment, except for each other and the knowledge that Camelot and Albion lay in the hands of capable individuals that they had produced for this very purpose.

Somewhere, the Great Dragon and those of the Old Religion were sensed equilibrium in the universe and were pleased with the work that had been done, all the time that had been spent, and the completion of all the steps that led to the fulfillment of the destiny of Arthur Pendragon and his sorceress, Merlin of Ealdor.

The story of their journey would be legendary.

fin.

* * *

A/N, part II: That's all folks! Thank you for reading!

Best,

soulofair


End file.
